<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Is it just me? by plopdropflop</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25568533">Is it just me?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/plopdropflop/pseuds/plopdropflop'>plopdropflop</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCT (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, Gen, Heavy Angst, Injury Recovery, Na Jaemin-centric, Panic Attacks, References to Depression, Sad Na Jaemin, Self Confidence Issues, Unreliable Narrator, references to disordered eating</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:09:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>24,286</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25568533</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/plopdropflop/pseuds/plopdropflop</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Na Jaemin that left was bright, playful, optimistic even when faced with the worst storms, and above all, happy. </p><p>The Na Jaemin that returns is a stranger.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Huang Ren Jun &amp; Na Jaemin, Lee Jeno &amp; Na Jaemin, Na Jaemin &amp; NCT Dream Ensemble, Na Jaemin &amp; Park Jisung</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>72</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>215</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Like... This will probably be long, and also extremely heavy so PLEASE proceed with caution. If anything such as anxiety attacks, panic attacks, self confidence issues, depression, arguments, etc etc bothers you PLEASE be careful and click away if you need.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It's a cloudy day, when Jaemin steps out of the company car, manager in tow as he stares up at the building that would once again become his home. Dreary skies and strong winds, nothing like the welcoming warm weather he has been envisioning for the entire year he was stuck lazing around, suffocated by loneliness.</p><p>There's still time to go before the scheduled comeback. Heck, there's still time to go before Jaemin could really join in on practices. Vocal lessons and such, sure, but the gruelling dance practices they had to go through? No way. Not for a month at least.</p><p>The car door shuts. It's just Jaemin, his manager, and his suitcase. Jaemin would love to blame the slight tremble of his hand on the weather, but the bitter truth is that he's been away for so long he's worried he wouldn't be welcomed back.</p><p>Of course, they'd kept in touch. It's not as if a little distance could destroy years and years of friendship, the struggles they went through together and the moments of pure elation that they spent in each others company. It's not the individual friendships he's worried about, it's the group as a whole. He's not naive, he knows in the long months of his absence they would've found a way to mould themselves around the gap he had left. He's watched the content they've released; they functioned fine without him.</p><p>(More than fine, in fact, he bitterly notes, recalling the two comebacks they had had without him. The goddamn daesang they had won without him).</p><p>"Come on, Jaemin-ah," his manager's voice interrupts, soft and pleasant to the ears. They never lost the babying lilt to their words, not even after all the members had grown taller than them. Dream would remain eternally children in their eyes.</p><p>Jaemin nods wordlessly, and follows. He's been envisioning this day for an year now, replaying his vision of it over and over in his head, but now that he's actually here... he kind of wants to turn back.</p><p>Shaking his head, he steels himself. What is he thinking? Both his normal therapist and his physical therapist had given him the go, only monthly appointments required now compared to the previous weekly. This is his home away from home, after all.</p><p>Hopefully it will still be.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>The first one to greet him, rather surprisingly, is Chenle, who throws his arms around Jaemin the moment he steps in. Jaemin stumbles a bit. Despite being stronger than before, the sudden action takes him completely off-guard.</p><p>From behind them, their manager chuckles, saying, "be gentle with him, Chenle-ah."</p><p>Chenle nods, hair bouncing from the force of his enthusiasm, and the manager leaves them at that.</p><p>Jaemin gazes down at the boy in his arms, pleasantly surprised by the sharpness of the once round and chubby face, cheekbones high and defined and jawline much more prominent. He had seen the selcas, sure, but seeing it like this, in real life is jarring.</p><p>"Hyung, I missed you so much!" Chenle cries out, comfortably resting against his shoulder. Once again, Jaemin is surprised, this time by the smoothness of the words that flow from his mouth. Gone were the long pauses between words and the stutters that would accompany, the chinese boy still unfamiliar with Korean. He sounds much more confident now, and Jaemin can't stop the strange mixture of emotions that burst within him.</p><p>He's too busy contemplating every feature on Chenle's face to formulate a response. Chenle isn't deterred by Jaemin's silence, however. He pulls away and tugs on Jaemin's wrist with the excitement of a little puppy. Jaemin follows along, endeared. Maybe he was overthinking on the ride here, and it would turn out fine.</p><p>"Were you waiting for me?" He asks, ignoring how strange it felt to actually talk to them.</p><p>Chenle doesn't comment on the awkwardness of his tone. Instead, he shakes his head and says, "I was just about to head out to get some food, actually. I lost rock paper scissors, but then you showed up! Manager hyung didn't tell anyone, which is why we—" he swings Jaemin around, guiding him to stand next to the door of the room Jisung, Jeno, and Renjun all share "— are going to surprise them."</p><p>Jaemin blinks, heartbeat suddenly erratic. Somehow, actually being inside the dorm made everything so much more real. He isn't just nervous now, no, he's <em>terrified</em>.</p><p>"Chenle, wait—"</p><p>The door swings open. Chenle saunters in, and Jaemin is left hiding.</p><p>He hears, over his pounding heart, Chenle chatting to them, proudly talking about all the food that he had bought, that he had left in the fridge and they would have to take out on their own. He hears the grumbles and groans, the shuffling of feet as they all get up.</p><p>He sees them invade his vision.</p><p>Jisung spots him first, observant as usual, eyes immediately darting to the shadowy corner he's tucked against. A split- second passes, where they just stare at each other.</p><p>And then Jisung <em>screams</em>.</p><p>Jeno and Renjun react immediately, whirling around, but Jaemin has no time to comprehend that as Jisung all but throws himself into Jaemin's chest, shoulders shaking and eyes tearing up already.</p><p>"Jaemin!" "Nana!" Twin cries from the two behind, as they too crowd Jaemin against the wall, enveloping him in a tight three way embrace.</p><p>His back hits the wall.</p><p>He can't breathe.</p><p> </p><p>He can't <em>breathe</em>.</p><p> </p><p>"Guys—" he hears someone say, but it's muffled, like Jaemin is wrapped in cling film and suspended in water, the limbs thrown around him a weight dragging him to unknown depths.</p><p>"Guys!" the voice calls out again, but Jaemin is <em>sinking</em>, and he wants to respond but he can't breathe, not when his lungs are being compressed out of existence.</p><p>
  <em>"Guys!"</em>
</p><p>A sob breaks out of his throat. The restraints disappear. He drops to the floor, hands clutching for something he doesn't even know as he takes in heaving breaths. In, and out, in, and out like his therapist taught him. It doesn't help, not when he can still hear noises from above him, not when his legs feel too weak to stand.</p><p>Jaemin doesn't know how long he stays there, curled into himself. His body is tense, nauseous and terrified but he doesn't know why. He cant even register where he is anymore, He doesn't know when the others back off and someone helps him to his feet and guides him to his new room with Jaemin a dead weight against their side.</p><p>He shares the room with their manager, but more often than not, the manager isn't home so the room is quite bare. Someone has already brought Jaemin's suitcase in, but he's too tired to wonder who. It's as if the fight has suddenly drained out of him, as he slumps into himself.</p><p>"Go to sleep, Jaemin-ah," the voice soothes, lowering him into the covers.</p><p>Jaemin's hand flies out to grab the figure's. He tugs insistently, aware of his clingy behavior but too stressed to feel self conscious over it.</p><p>The figure obliges easily, sliding under the blankets and cuddling up to his side. Slowly, the ringing in his ears disappear, and the world starts to regain it's usual definition.</p><p>"I'm so sorry," he whispers into a chest more solid and less boney than he remembers.</p><p>"It's alright," a voice answers. And that's that.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>When Jaemin wakes up, it's not the slow ascent into consciousness that he's used to, but rather a sudden jolt. He sits up as if shocked, heart pounding, hand flying to his chest. He takes a moment to calm himself and looks around the room, washed in a soft yellow glow from the rising sun.</p><p>He's not surprised to see Jeno lying next to him. His body must have recognized the touch of his best friend even through it's panic; Jaemin doubts he would've been compliant if anyone else had tried to help him.</p><p>Jeno is still asleep next to him, face highlighted by the muted rays of the sun. Jaemin stares at the way the light reflects off the new edges on Jeno's face, the masculine features that he finally grew into relaxed in his peaceful slumber.</p><p>Like a tidal wave, memories of yesterday crashes into him. His face burns in red hot embarrassment when he recalls his behavior, not as vivid as he hopes but rather a flash of blurred colors and overwhelming dread. That... hasn't happened in a while, honestly. Jaemin isn't a stranger to anxiety attacks, witnessing it both from himself and his fellow members, but <em>panic attacks</em> were a rarity.</p><p>When the embarrassment ebbs away, the guilt crashes in its stead. His friends had tried to greet him, and what did he do? He freaked out! What was wrong with him?</p><p>The nausea is beginning to return, and Jaemin knows he has to quell it somehow, so he quickly throws the covers off himself and marches outside. It's too early for anyone else to be awake anyways.</p><p>He runs through a mental checklist, listing out things he must do. Contact his mom, for she must be worried and lonely after he left. Do the stretches his physical therapist had asked of him, though that could take some time and he should focus on it later. And most importantly, prepare an apology gift.</p><p>Or, in other words, food.</p><p>Cooking has always been something Jaemin enjoyed, days of his childhood spent next to his grandmother's side, absorbing her teachings. His love only grew during his break, when cooking was one of the few activities he could do that didn't strain his body but at the same time felt rewarding.</p><p>Mind set, he rummages through their fridge, ready to pick up ingredients when a thought suddenly hits him.</p><p>Were these even his to use anymore? He has moved in again, sure, but... he doesn't know if any of the ingredients are reserved by a member, doesn't know if they would be mad, doesn't know if they already have plans for breakfast.</p><p>The dread creeps back up.</p><p>He waves it away. Those were stupid thoughts. He knows that they wouldn't have made breakfast plans without him, knows that everything in the fridge is his to use.</p><p>With that in mind, he begins to prepare, though the balance of determination and unease occasionally tips too much for his comfort.</p><p>He finishes efficiently, cleaning up as he goes, and taking extra care to plate everything beautifully. Kimchi jjigae ladled over steaming bowls of rice that he carries to the dining table with his heart feeling ten times lighter than before.</p><p>He moves to wash his hands and wipe the beads of sweat on his face when someone pipes up from behind.</p><p>"Holy shit, Jaemin, did you make these?"</p><p>Jaemin whirls around, towel clutched in hand, only to find Jeno beaming up at him.</p><p>His hair is adorabley messed up, and his eyes are puffy and tired, but his face is bright as he takes a seat at the table, patting the chair next to him.</p><p>Jaemin obliges and takes a seat, staring down at his own bowl of rice. He picks up his chopsticks slowly and eats tiny, bite sized pieces, a sharp contrast to Jeno who's practically inhaling the food.</p><p>They sit like that in silence for a while, only the sounds of them eating filling the room. Perhaps to Jeno it was simple, comfortable company, but to Jaemin it was just another reminder of the elephant in the room. Sooner or later, they'll start to ask questions, and he won't be able to answer.</p><p>He returned with the promise of never creating trouble for them again, not after the hell that was chewing gum promotions. And yet, it hasn't even been a day, and he's already started shit.</p><p>He shifts in his seat, uncomfortable with the silence. He doesn't want to be the one to initiate a conversation, not when he's not entirely sure that Jeno isn't mad about the previous day.</p><p>Luckily, Jeno seems to get the hint, slamming the half eaten bowl down and flinching at the underestimated strength. He turns to Jaemin, eyes soft and smile subtle, and Jaemin knows he's going to try wrench answers out of him.</p><p>"I'm fine," Jaemin says, before Jeno can start, heart hammering in his chest.</p><p>Jeno frowns. Jaemin knows what he's thinking of; the countless nights were Jaemin parroted the same thing to him, ignoring the sting in his back. Whatever chances of Jeno trusting him, Jaemin had already broken it.</p><p>"Jaemin," Jeno starts, slow and considering. "We won't talk about it if you don't want to but..." he stops, biting his lips, visibly struggling with the words. Then, like a balloon that met a needle, he deflates into his seat with a great sigh.</p><p>"It's alright, Jaemin," he says, looking up at him with earnest eyes. "I missed you so much. <em>We</em> missed you so much."</p><p>Something grabs ahold of his throat; not the vicious grip of his self doubt and hatred like he was accustomed to but rather something lighter. Something happier. They had missed him, the same way he had missed them. This was what he wanted. What he was yearning for all that time, during the days he spent alone. Even if he ruined their reunion...</p><p>"I'm sorry," he echoes once more from last night. </p><p>Something in Jeno's face falters, but he collects himself in record time. He reaches out to grasp Jaemin's hands, food left forgotten, as he smiles with a smile that lights up his entire face. "Let's meet up with the others later? Mark hyung and Haechannie too. They've been blowing up our group chat, have you seen?"</p><p>Jaemin shakes his head. No, he hasn't seen. He's had that groupchat muted for as long as he could remember, the feeling of bitterness that would creep up whenever one of them would mention a schedule too much for him to bear.</p><p>Jeno shrugs at this. "Eh, it's fine. What do you say though?"</p><p>Jaemin nods. "I'd like that," he says.</p><p>Jeno beams, throwing his arms around Jaemin's neck, forceful in his excitement. And just as quickly, he retracts them back, eyes wide and terrified as they search Jaemin's face for a reaction.</p><p>
  <em>Ruined it. Ruined it. Ruined it.</em>
</p><p>Jaemin ignores the voice in his head and throws himself at Jeno, snuggling into his best friend's warmth, inhaling the sharp woody scent that followed him everywhere. Even though Jeno has grown taller, more sturdier, they still fit together the same way they used to. His arms recognize the body it's pressed against immediately, and he relaxes almost instantly.</p><p>"I missed you too," he whispers, quiet, but from the way the arms around his waist tightens, he knows Jeno has heard.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Jeno helps him with his stretches, patient even through the most boring ones, keeping him company through mindless chatter. A bird has started nesting in one of the trees, a cat snuck up the stairs one day, oh speaking of cats, Bongshik has gotten really chubby lately.</p><p>Jaemin listens to it all, but he also keeps an ear out for the rest of the dorms, wondering when the remaining two would wake up. Chenle must've gone home last night, and Jaemin doesn't know if he's glad or even more worried.</p><p>The soft patter of footsteps make him pause. He looks up just as the door swings open, and Jisung stands there, a foot taller than Jaemin remembers, eyes wide and watery.</p><p><em>"Hyung,"</em> he chokes out, moving towards Jaemin, and as if attracted by a magnet, Jaemin hauls himself to his feet, meeting the young boy halfway.</p><p>Jisung is still slender, still folds himself into Jaemin's arms to fit under his chin, still fits in Jaemin's arms like the child he took under his wing back when they were mere trainees. His heart bursts with fond affection, and here, with Jisung in his embrace and Jeno watching over them with a smile, he doesn't know why he ever got scared of them.</p><p>Thinking of it like that brings back the unwanted guilt again, and he's just opened his mouth to apologize — because it's Jisung, and he's so young and so kind and would've been so worried — when Jisung pulls back and exclaims, "I'm hungry!"</p><p>Jaemin can't help the happiness he feels at that; Jisung had ignored the kitchen in favor of looking for him, and for someone so constantly as hungry as him, that actually did mean a lot.</p><p>"There's food on the table," he says kindly, ignoring the way Jisung's eyes widen a little because it's the first time he's heard Jaemin talk. </p><p>It's strange, he knows. He was always dubbed the mood-maker of the group before, always hyper, always boisterous, always ready to play with them. He wonders if their vision of their reunion included the Jaemin of one year ago, a figure that has long withered away.</p><p>He tries not to think about it, instead following Jisung to the kitchen and observing his face as he shoves the rice into his mouth, clumsy but endearing all the same. Jaemin smiles as he watches, and when Jisung puts his bowl down and leaves with a flimsy explanation of having to wake Renjun up, Jaemin ignores the pang in his chest.</p><p>He supposed they expected something like this then, if the lack of thank you was anything to go by. You don't thank people for things expected of them, he thinks, as he cleans up the mess Jisung left behind. He deserves this, for being such a baby and ruining yesterday.</p><p>Heck, it even extended beyond yesterday. Jaemin's absence would've thrown them into chaos, updated choreo to learn, more lines, and he feels horrible for it.</p><p>If making them food and cleaning up afterwards was what got him in their good books, he'll have to do it.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>There was one day before debut that Jaemin remembers vividly. He and Renjun had snuck out to the nearest convenience store to get ice cream, coffee for Jaemin and strawberry for Renjun. As they slowly made their way through the cone, leaning against a wall hidden in an alleyway, they had looked up at the stars. Jaemin didn't see anything particularly interesting about them, but what was beautiful was the light that shone in Renjun's eyes whenever he talked about the night sky with a bright smile.</p><p>Jaemin had listened, happy to keep him company even if he didn't understand half the things Renjun said, and soon enough, the cone was gone, and Jaemin had wiped his sticky hands on his pants.</p><p>Renjun had stared at him, eyes trailing up from his fingers, up his arms, his neck, to finally settle on his face. Jaemin liked to hold eye contact with people, but here, tucked in an alleyway with only their hearts for company, he felt too vulnerable to try. Renjun stared as if he saw right through Jaemin's skin, into the bundle of nerves in his body, into his brain that kept him up every night, telling him he'll never be good enough.</p><p>"Jaemin," he had said, breaking eye contact to look back up into the indigo sky. "I like the stars because it makes me happy."</p><p>Jaemin had nodded, slow and confused. </p><p>And then Renjun had said the four words that would haunt him for days to come.</p><p>"What makes <em>you</em> happy?" </p><p>Jaemin remembers not knowing why his heart sunk at the question. He didn't understand the sudden terror that gripped him. He barely managed to stop his face from contorting into a frown, and forced a smile.</p><p>"Seeing other people happy," he had answered easily, fingers tapping the brick walls behind them, sticky skin coming back dirty.</p><p>Renjun had frowned at him. Because that wasn't a lie, sure, but it was never the truth either.</p><p>Jaemin remembers not sleeping that night.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I updated the tags a bit!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He finishes washing the dishes and cleaning up the table in record time, tripping over his feet to shove everything back in the proper cupboards and running back to his room to lock himself in.</p><p>Sure, he's being dramatic, but he's genuinely terrified of meeting Renjun. The chance that Renjun wouldn't leave it alone the same way Jeno or Jisung did is too much for him to be comfortable with. </p><p>(Worse, is if he inquires about what Jaemin was doing before he came back. It's very in character for Renjun to have a million questions about everything. With anyone else, he will be able to lie. With Renjun...)</p><p>He takes in a deep, shuddering breath, trying to calm himself. He stares at his bed, still messy from when Jeno got up. Then, at his suitcase, still packed. There, that's a good distraction for him, at least for the time being. </p><p>Mind set, he busies himself with hanging up his clothes into the cupboard and folding them into the dresser. There isn't much that fits him anymore, not after his growth spurt, so it doesn't take very long for the task to be complete. </p><p>Sighing, he steps back to admire his handiwork, then closes the door. There's a mirror on one of the doors, and he stares at his reflection with empty eyes. A ritual he would do every morning back home, gauging his face, his body. He stares up and down, wondering if he would fit into the group anymore, all of them looking infinitely more mature, with nicer skin and prettier hair.  Jaemin, in comparison, still has noticeable acne on his cheeks, cracked lips, and an extremely greasy bird's nest.</p><p>Logically, he knows once he starts meeting up with the stylists and attending his appointments to the dermatologist, he'll look better too. But the knowledge doesn't stop the worry that buds in his chest. Knowing that he's behind them in every aspect; dancing, singing, rapping, performing, and even looks, isn't sitting well in his stomach. </p><p>He shakes his head to try and physically force the thoughts out. Closes his eyes and turns away, walking forward until his knees hit the bed. </p><p>Perhaps a nap wouldn't hurt. Definitely the safest method to avoid running into Renjun, he thinks, and makes up his mind. </p><p>He's a bit tired from talking to Jeno and Jisung, so he falls asleep almost immediately.</p><p>Belatedly, he wonders why they made him so exhausted in the first place. </p>
<hr/><p>"Jaemin-ah, Jaemin-ah..." </p><p>He groans and shoves his face into the pillow besides him. From above, he hears a low chuckle, and he sighs, giving into his fate. </p><p>Blearily opening his eyes, he meets the gaze of the culprit who had woken him — Jeno. Of course, he should've expected. </p><p>Jeno's grinning down at him, Jaemin's blanket clutched between his fingers. It's cold, enough to prompt Jaemin out of bed, inching himself closer to where Jeno stands and holding his arms out to point at the blanket. </p><p>Jeno snorts. "Nu-uh. Nope, not today, Jaemin. C'mon, get ready, the others are waiting for you." He says, the smile still present, eyes fond and crinkled. His expression doesn't change even when he walks out the door, and Jaemin can only stare, reluctant hope blooming within him. Jeno seems happy, because Jaemin is here. </p><p>The knowledge makes him smile too.</p>
<hr/><p>When he leaves the room, he meets Renjun. </p><p>His body goes through a million different emotions in half a second. Awe, as he looks at Renjun, so much older and prettier, so different from the boy Jaemin had left. Fear, as Renjun turns to look at him, right in the eyes, piercing and sharp. Anticipation, as a silence settles between them. And above all, pure, indescribable relief, because it's <em> Renjun </em>and Jaemin has missed him so, so much that it hurts. </p><p>Renjun's face splits into a grin. Jaemin notices the little crooked teeth is gone, and vaguely remembers reading a bunch of texts about Renjun lamenting over all the dental procedures.  Jaemin remembers considering talking about his own appointments in return, before clamping that thought down in fear of what Renjun would say he if he found out what they were for.</p><p>It's a strange thing to focus on, when Renjun stands in front of him, all flesh and bone that a Jaemin of the past would've absolutely jumped to embrace. </p><p>But the Jaemin of now... doesn't know what to do. As his eyes trail up to meet Renjun's, he remembers why he was so terrified for this moment in the first place, and it's as if his entire body locks in place. </p><p>Renjun's smile softens. "Jaemin," he says, reaching out with a hand, pausing with a fair distance between them. </p><p>Jaemin gulps, but his own shoots out immediately without thought, and he grasps the significantly smaller hand in his own. It's warm, more calloused than he remembers.</p><p>"I missed you," Renjun says. </p><p>And that's that. No mention of yesterday, no questions about anything, nothing at all.</p><p>And for some reason, Jaemin feels an irrational clump of bitterness take ahold of his throat. </p>
<hr/><p>There's a restaurant they all frequent, a sort of halfway point between the 127 dorms and the Dream dorms. It's small, cozy, and tucked into a corner with fairly less customers, all of them regulars for years. The owners are a lovely pair of grandparents who have known them ever since trainee days, and reserves a special, secluded area for them whenever they ask. There, no fear of running into fans or having their privacy invaded exists. </p><p>Mark, Donghyuck and Chenle are already seated by the time they arrive, bickering over something in the menu. Jaemin can't help the overwhelming fondness he feels at the moment, having missed this particular brand of banter dearly. </p><p>When they look up, it's as if his past feelings vanish. No negative thoughts, feelings, emotions, anything. Just pure comfort, as they beam up at him, as their eyes sparkle, as Jaemin is squished between Jeno and Jisung. For the first time, he feels at <em> home.</em></p><p>"Jaemin! It's been so long, wow you've grown so tall!" Mark exclaims happily, voice tinged in amazement. Jaemin grins at him, taking in his face, finding that it hasn't changed much. Neither has Donghyuck's, honestly. Maybe it was a 127 thing. </p><p>They slide into conversation quite easily, mindless chatter about new dramas and new movies or songs. Jaemin listens to it all, though he can't contribute much because he had honestly just seen a handful of shows that he rewatched over and over again.</p><p>They don't stop even when the food arrives. Jaemin feels more content than he ever has, stomach full of delicious food and all his friends surrounding him. He pays extra attention to their mannerisms and any quirks he can observe — such as how Jisung scrunches his nose when he's confused, or how Renjun rubs his neck when he's scared, or how Jeno eats his food like a man starved for days — so he can catch up on what he's missed about them through the subtle body language. </p><p>It's something he picked up from days spent at the hospital, bored out of his mind. People watching. He enjoyed staring at the nurses bustling around, or the children trying hard to stay still in their seats, expected to behave, or the exasperated parents, all from a measly window sill. The art of observing became second nature to him, to the point where there was a brief phase where he had skimmed through books relating to non-verbal cues, hoping to learn something. </p><p>(Of course, like everything else, he ended up losing interest, motivation, and energy, and the e-books remain buried forever in his phone's storage).</p><p>It's because of this habit that he starts to notice that they're acting strange. </p><p>He knows it's not fair to compare them to how they acted a year ago, so he doesn't, but no matter what point in time, he knows it's not normal to constantly swing their eyes towards Jaemin — just for a split second — with a frown, before looking away. </p><p>And it's not just one person, but rather all of them. At one point, he catches Jisung's eyes and smiles, faltering when the boy looks away quickly. </p><p>He starts to catch the number of awkward pauses between topics, stilted silences that never ever happened even back when they were trainees and didn't know each other very well.</p><p>Was it... because of him? </p><p>He's confused, and a bit self-conscious wondering if he's doing something wrong. And just like that, his appetite disappears, the discomfort settling in his stomach and mixing with the food already there to make him feel nauseous. </p><p>He remains looking at his plate for the remaining time, picking at his food but unable to eat anything. He ends up looking at Jisung with a questioning gaze, pointing to the uneaten shrimp left in his plate, and the younger boy accepts his silent offer and eats them up with a grateful smile. </p><p>When they all get up to leave, he's stopped by Mark. </p><p>Their unofficial leader gazes at Jaemin with concerned, serious eyes. He quickly glances over to check if they're out of ear-shot, and smiles at Jaemin, though it doesn't reach his eyes.</p><p>"Are you alright?" Mark asks. </p><p>Jaemin blinks. He's not very alright <em> now, </em>but he was perfectly fine before. Did the others not think so? Was that why they stared at him so much earlier? </p><p>Oh... does Mark know about yesterday? Of course, he's the leader after all. </p><p>"I'm fine," Jaemin replies anyways, because it isn't exactly a lie, and he feels infinitely better today than any of the previous days, so that must count for something. </p><p>Mark frowns. "You don't have to lie, Jaemin."</p><p>That makes Jaemin feel a bit defensive. He knows none of them believe him anymore; for good reason too, because he was never honest about his pain before until it was too late. But it still stings, that Mark would just assume like that.</p><p>"I'm really fine. I loved meeting you guys again," he repeats, hoping Mark can catch the sincerity in his tone. </p><p>But Mark only sighs. </p><p>"Jaemin..."</p><p>Jaemin takes in a deep breath. In and out. In and out.</p><p>"Why would you think I'm not?" He tries. </p><p>Mark doesn't answer for a second, studying Jaemin's face with unusually serious eyes that make Jaemin fidget in his spot and look at his shoes. </p><p>"You've been really quiet today," Mark answers finally, and Jaemin is so surprised his head snaps back up to stare wide-eyed at Mark. </p><p><em> Quiet </em> ? Was that why they were all staring at him weird? Because he wasn't filling in the silence like he normally would've? That's a bit unfair isn't it? It's been a <em> year, </em> and if Jaemin can extend them the courtesy of not expecting things to remain the same he doesn't understand why they can't do the same to him. Of course Jaemin was quiet, he had spent all his time alone with no one to talk to, consequently losing his tendency to chatter on about anything and everything.</p><p>Why would Mark insinuate that something that had slowly evolved into becoming a core part of his personality was <em> wrong? </em> </p><p>He's so irritated that he forgets to answer, and Mark takes this as a sign to continue. </p><p>"Is it... is it about what happened yesterday?"</p><p>Something in Jaemin recoils at that, the realization that everyone knows isn't surprising but it's no less terrifying. But he doesn't understand if he's angry or not, because he felt strange when Renjun <em> didn't </em> bring it up, but also felt annoyed when Jeno <em> did </em> .</p><p>His thoughts make no sense to him anymore. He wishes Mark would've never talked to him. Then he would've never had to have this internal debate.</p><p>That's a horrible thought isn't it? </p><p>But it's true. He and Mark, and even Donghyuck to an extent, had never been close the same way he and Jeno or Jisung are. It's mostly because Mark and Donghyuck were always closer to each other, and so preoccupied with their 127 duties that Jaemin only ever saw them in passing. </p><p> Combined with a hiatus where he couldn't talk to them, because they were too busy and he was always too tired, it leaves them in a strange spot where they're meant to be close but they <em>aren't.</em></p><p>Jaemin isn't comfortable with Mark knowing about his vulnerabilities, and it's a horrible, shameful thought because throughout their entire debut, it was Mark who had kept them sane, kept their heads straight, prevented them from collapsing into their fear. </p><p>Especially for Jaemin, always behind in dance practices, vocal lessons, and everything, Mark was always there to support him, even through Mark's own hectic schedule. </p><p>During the first weeks of his hiatus, Mark would text him regularly with messages of support and reminders to cheer up. They eventually stopped, when they both realized it wasn't something that would heal in just a few months. </p><p>(Though perhaps it would've, if Jaemin hadn't been so stupid).</p><p>Despite every memory of Mark that Jaemin has, tucked into a corner of his heart specially reserved for his friends, here Jaemin is, wishing Mark never did anything for him.</p><p>His mind has become an echo chamber of guilt, regret, dread, and every other word in the book. He knows if this conversation continues, it would grow to an intensity he wouldn't be able to cope with.</p><p>So he smiles, forcing it to reach his eyes, and says, "I'm just tired. I'm really alright."</p><p>Not, <em> that's just who I am. That's just part of me now. I've changed. Why can't you see? </em> An excuse. </p><p>Mark nods, clearly disbelieving, but he doesn't push it anymore. He awkwardly scratches his head and starts walking towards where the others are waiting for them, and Jaemin follows, feeling strangely detached, like he's watching himself in third person as he takes a step at a time.</p><p>And when they head back to their respective homes, Jaemin opens their group chat for the first time in ages.</p><p>He expects it to be completely full, mindless chatter or sticker spams or discussions for hours on end, like when they were trainees. </p><p>Instead, the most recent message was three months ago. </p><p>Even though Jaemin remembers Jeno saying that Mark had texted there about him.</p><p>Of course they would have one without him. What did he expect? </p><p>He's too exhausted to feel disappointed. It seems this is a common trend now; waking up, talking, cooking, socialising, they all exhaust him beyond reason now.</p><p>He slides under his covers, and falls into a dreamless slumber despite the fading sun still hanging in the air.</p>
<hr/><p>The previous day's incident stretches out into the rest. </p><p>It starts out small.</p><p>He gets up, and trudges to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. While the stew boils, he busies himself with his stretches, and when it's done cooking, he plates the food and goes to take a shower. </p><p>The hot water feels nice on his sore muscles, and he takes his time to scrub every inch of himself clean. He has to start actively trying to look presentable again, and even though they have no foreseeable schedules, he wants it to start in the dorms.</p><p>He exits and towels his hair, pulls on his clothes and heads back to the kitchen. </p><p>Jeno, Renjun, and Jisung gathered at the table, happily devouring the food and chattering amongst themselves. Jaemin is pleasantly surprised, it's not common for them to be up this early. </p><p>He wants to join, but something holds him back.</p><p>Something in the way they're laughing, the way they're talking makes him pause in his steps.</p><p> This is a good opportunity to gauge how they actually behave with each other, he thinks. He wants to know if their little group hangout was the normal way they interacted and if they would be like that even without Jaemin in the picture. Sure, he feels a little creepy, but he feels it's justified. </p><p>Five minutes later, he regrets it. </p><p>They were so carefree around each other, laughing boisterously, slapping each other playfully and constantly making reference to inside jokes that Jaemin has no clue about. There are no pitying gazes or weird stares; only the genuine, wholesome friendship that Jaemin had yearned for all this time and <em> still </em> hasn't received. </p><p>Because with him, they were acting careful. Careful not to talk about the injury, careful not to mention any schedules, careful not to mention their comebacks. As a result, they had to hold their personality back as well, and the difference is night and day when Jaemin sees how they really act. The version they present in front of Jaemin is filtered, the same way one would behave around a stranger or an acquaintance, and not someone they've known for years and years.</p><p>He's not hungry anymore. He goes back to his room instead, and tries to calm down, to little success.</p><p>When he comes back, much, much later, the plates are left unwashed, and he busies himself with cleaning up after them. It's obvious they were depending on him to do it, for what reason he doesn't know. At first he thought they were mad at him, but they had only shown kindness — albeit, quite awkwardly.</p><p>Maybe it was expected compensation for holding them back, and then coming back to ride on the coat-tails of their success that he wasn't even a part of? That sounded extreme, but the more he mulls over it, the more it starts to make sense.</p><p> Of course, they must be busy from having two comebacks in a year. Jaemin knows, from his limited experience, just how draining those seasons can be. Of course they wouldn't want to occupy themselves with chores during the precious off-days they could get. </p><p>It doesn't sit right with him, but he hates himself for feeling entitled to something he doesn't deserve. Ignoring the war in his head, he makes up his mind to do as much as he can for them in the dorms. It would be good for himself too, something to keep his time occupied, and feel less like a dead-weight. </p><p>He looks around the kitchen, and then the living room. </p><p>It seems a bit too dusty.</p><p> </p><p>He gets to work.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I would like to say that no one is actually a bad guy in this story. Its just that this is Jaemin's view on what's happening and he's a v unreliable narrator. If there's any odd actions anyone does it'll be explained as the story goes on! </p><p>I think Im going to stick w v frequent updates of 3-4k chapters, I hope that's alright. I kind of want each chapter to focus on a "theme" sort of and I don't want to drag stuff on so that just seems the best to me.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s been a week since Jaemin’s seen anyone properly.</p><p>Of course, he’s caught glimpses of them in passing, but for the most time he occupies his time by shoving in headphones, blasting music, and cleaning whatever part of the dorm he’s assigned himself for that day. It keeps him busy, and most importantly, it keeps him distracted.</p><p>He’s not being purposefully difficult; or atleast, he thinks he’s not. Because he <em> has </em> tried to talk to them, a part of himself still clinging onto that naive, innocent hope that he can uphold the perfect reunion he had crafted in his head.</p><p>It always turned out bad. Awkward. There would be too many pauses where they would stare at Jaemin, expecting him to fill the silence, and then another minute of them realizing Jaemin wasn’t going to say anything, and then more struggle to find a conversation topic that didn’t mention any touchy subjects, and so on. </p><p>It’s worse whenever he overhears them talking to each other, where none of those elements would be present, conversation flowing as smooth as butter. </p><p>Jaemin’s not sure how at fault he himself is in this situation. Perhaps he should’ve forced himself to say the words they wanted, or forced himself to act a bit less dreary, but he’s not very comfortable with the idea of pretending to me someone he’s not. The reunion was supposed to be between Jaemin’s real self and them, not a persona or a caricature.</p><p>So he stubbornly continues with his monotonous, tiring schedule, ignoring the fragments of the crushed hope that pierce right through his heart.</p><hr/><p>The intervention comes on a sunny afternoon, the clouds finally dispersing and allowing the bright light to peek through. Jaemin is sitting on his bed, scrolling through an online store to find a suitable vacuum cleaner for the dorm - wow his mother must be proud, is this really who he’s becoming now? - when the door swings open and Jaemin jumps in his seat.</p><p>It’s Jeno and Renjun, both of them visibly cringing, probably realizing that the way things have been progressing, walking into each other’s room unannounced was probably crossing a line a bit. </p><p>Jaemin agrees with this sentiment, but he doesn’t say anything about it, only looking questioningly up at them.</p><p>There’s a pause where Jeno and Renjun look at each other, trying to communicate with their eyes, hesitation obvious in every feature. They seem to win whatever silent argument they had, and Jeno steps forward, clearing his throat. </p><p>“So, uh, Jaemin… what have you been up to?” Jeno asks, so performative and loud and falsely casual that Jaemin winces.</p><p>He shows his phone screen in place of an answer. Their eyebrows fly up into their hairline.</p><p>Another pause.</p><p>“Wow… vacuum cleaners… that’s…” Jeno trails off, visibly struggling to find words.</p><p>“Oh for the love of god,” Renjun cuts in, grabbing Jeno by the arm roughly and marching them both towards Jaemin’s bed. “Jaemin, is it alright if we sit here?”</p><p>He nods, albeit a bit wary at the sudden fierce expression on Renjun’s face, but more than not he’s actually delighted. Finally, someone is showing something other than caution towards him!</p><p>“Jaemin, we just want to talk,” Renjun says, looking at him with that patented Renjun gaze, the one that makes Jaemin worry about every single Bad Thing he’s done from ages one to seventeen.</p><p>He still agrees to it however, whispering a small, “okay,” that elicits a small, encouraging smile from Jeno.</p><p>Renjun seems to contemplate his words before saying them, a habit he’s always had when he’s trying to tackle a topic he deems serious. It automatically puts Jaemin on edge, though a part of him is thrilled that his body seems to remember this minute detail about Renjun.</p><p>“You haven’t been… talking to us much lately?” Renjun starts off, unsure, then quickly hurries to continue his sentence before Jaemin can interrupt. "Almost as if… you're avoiding us?"</p><p>It's framed as a question but they both know it isn't. </p><p>Jaemin isn't sure of how to respond without coming off as whiny. He feels insanely guilty, yes, but he thinks his behavior is justified.</p><p>"It's just been tiring to settle in," he answers, vague enough to technically not be a lie, while also sufficient as an excuse. </p><p>Renjun stares at him, frowning, and Jaemin has to force himself to stay still. <em> You bite your lips when you're stressed, </em> Renjun had told him once. Back then, Jaemin was freaked out by Renjun's keen eye. Now, he's grateful he knows what tics to look out for. </p><p>Eventually though, it seems Jaemin wins whatever staring contest they had going on, and Renjun smiles softly. </p><p>"That's alright," he says, and Jaemin's heart soars into his throat. </p><p>"We just miss the old you," Jeno adds.</p><p>And it drops, heavy into his stomach. </p><p>To add fuel to the fire, they keep going, saying, "it's not fun without you hanging all over us, making our ears bleed."</p><p>They laugh, as if it's the funniest joke they've heard, and Jaemin forces himself to smile despite the horror that's rooted itself right in his chest. </p><p>And then they leave. </p><p>Jaemin rushes to get up after them, locks the door, and collapses onto the floor. </p><p>And he cries. Cries for a boy too innocent, cries for a boy too lonely, cries for a boy <em> who doesn't exist anymore. </em>Why can't they see that? Jaemin would never be the Jaemin they knew, but does that make him a stranger? Unworthy of their friendship?</p><p>He doesn't want to know the answer. By the time he calms down, his head is pounding.</p><p>He wonders if Jeno knows he misses the old Jaemin too.</p><hr/><p>Their manager drops by to visit them and hand out their practice schedules, printed out, to make it easier to hang up where they could see them. </p><p>While the others go over theirs, he smiles at Jaemin, a bit too sympathetic for Jaemin's liking. </p><p>"I'm sorry I haven't been around," he says. Then, after a moment, he whispers, "you'll be able to join in on practices after a while okay? Just wait it out until then, fighting!" </p><p>It seems it wasn't low enough, at least not for Jisung, who whirls around and frowns at him. Jaemin doesn't know why he seems surprised; they must have all known he wouldn't be practicing with them. </p><p>Still, the frown on Jisung's face does not disappear, and when the members disperse and the manager leaves, he grabs Jaemin by the arm.</p><p>"Hyung, can I go to your room with you?" Jisung asks, and how can Jaemin say no to those sparkling eyes? He's always been biased towards Jisung, and the current situation hasn't diminished that in the slightest. </p><p>So Jaemin nods, and relaxes when Jisung shoots him a bright grin, gummy smile on full display. It's<em> adorable. </em></p><p>Jisung seems enamoured by Jaemin's mattress, bouncing on it happily, like a five year old and not a fifteen year old. Fondness swells in Jaemin's heart, its aftertastes leaving his mouth feeling too sweet. </p><p>Jisung looks like he wants to say something, and Jaemin stares curiously until he can't take it anymore. </p><p>"What's up?" he asks, and Jisung flinches as if shocked. Still as much of a scaredy-cat, Jaemin thinks, entertained. </p><p>"Oh… nevermind… but, can I talk to you about my day?" Jisung says, excited and how can Jaemin say no? Jisung could ask to talk about paint drying and Jaemin would still indulge his needs without complaints. </p><p>Jisung starts to talk, and it starts from mundane activities like what he's been watching recently and what shoes he's been eyeing (Jaemin mentally notes this down for later), and Jaemin listens attentively, completely captured by Jisung's  motions.</p><p>Then, Jisung starts talking about a new dance he's been wanting to practice. <em> The footwork is so cool! </em>He claims, and Jaemin nods along, because this is an important topic for Jisung, and he wants to encourage it as much as possible. </p><p>He's always tried to be an exemplary hyung to Jisung, pushing him when he needs the encouragement, pulling him back when he overworks himself, teaching him values such as kindness and patience that Jaemin is proud to say still reigns strong within Jisung. They've always been close, Jisung naturally drawn to trust Jaemin's near-parental affection during a time he was expected to be too independent for his age. </p><p>Which is why he's confused when Jisung trails off, his eyes suddenly wide, and his face turning alarmingly red. </p><p>"Oh no… I'm sorry, hyung," Jisung says, panicked, and those expressive eyes show misplaced fear.</p><p>"Why would you be sorry, Jisungie?" Jaemin asks, confused, but no less worried at the sudden shift.</p><p>Jisung seems to hesitate, but he's always been very open to Jaemin about everything he feels — because Jaemin used to forcibly wring it out of him when Jisung used to retreat back into his shell too much for his liking — so Jaemin doesn't see a reason he needs to stay quiet. </p><p>"Come on," he gently eggs on, and Jisung cracks. </p><p>"The hyungs told me not to mention stuff like… like dancing, or practices, because you might get mad," Jisung whispers, like he's ashamed of the confession. </p><p>And yes, Jaemin feels an absolute stinging anger, burning hot acid that takes over his limbs, but it's not directed at Jisung. Never at Jisung, who has only ever been earnest and kind. </p><p>What right do the others have to dictate what Jaemin would feel? What Jaemin's boundaries are? And then try to implement it into <em> others? </em></p><p>"There's no reason for me to be angry, Jisung, I like hearing you talk," he says, trying to soothe the younger whose face has progressively grown more and more wary the longer Jaemin went without saying anything. </p><p>"But they said…"</p><p>"Well they aren't me, are they? Jisung, you can talk about anything to me, just like it's always been. There's nothing that's changed about that," Jaemin answers, a bit too sharp. </p><p>"About that," Jisung cuts in, surprising Jaemin. When Jaemin shoots him a questioning look, he clarifies, hesitant, "you said nothing has changed about that, but something changed somewhere, right?" </p><p>Jaemin blinks, completely taken back, both by the directness of the words, and the fact that it was <em> Jisung </em>who said them. </p><p>Evidently, even Jisung is surprised, because he clamps a hand on his mouth, stuttering out, "wait, I-I'm sorry." </p><p>And Jaemin laughs, unexpectedly, and somewhere he notes it's the first time he's done so since he arrived.</p><p>"A year ago you never would've said that, Jisung. That's enough proof that things have changed, that's just how life works," Jaemin explains, amused at how Jisung stares at him like bestowed upon him ancient knowledge. </p><p>Jisung seems pleased with this answer, and continues where he left off, fawning over the dance, excitedly detailing how he was planning to memorize it. </p><p>Time passes without them realizing, and before they know it, the light has faded and the room is engulfed in only the soft glow of Jaemin's bedside lamp.</p><p>Jisung yawns, and he seems like he's struggling to say something.</p><p>Jaemin smiles, well aware of where this is going, and when Jisung can't say anything for too long, he does it for him. </p><p>"You want to sleep here right? It's okay, I don't mind."</p><p>Jisung nods happily, though his smile turns a bit sheepish and he's visibly embarrassed. Still, he brushes his teeth, and slips into a pair of Jaemin's pajamas before sliding into the covers with him. </p><p>Here, in the dark, with only the two of them, there is no need for pretenses, and Jisung snuggles up into Jaemin's chest without worry.</p><p>Jaemin's whole body feels lighter when he tentatively winds his arms around Jisung's waist and pulls the boy closer. He can feel a smile against his shoulder, and he mirrors it with his own.</p><p>
  <em> Seeing others happy. </em>
</p><p>It really wasn't a lie.</p><hr/><p>Jisung is long gone by the time Jaemin wakes up. He doesn't take it to heart; they must have left for practice already. </p><p>Jaemin busies himself with his normal routine, but his mind is occupied with other thoughts. He wonders how much of the old Jaemin is still left within him. </p><p>He wonders if he'll still enjoy physical affection the way he used to. </p><p>He thinks there's no harm in trying. Back at home, he didn't have many ways to indulge his affectionate needs, thus the itch that used to always be there underneath his skin eventually dwindled into nothingness. </p><p>Cuddling with Jisung was definitely nice, though it might've been because he was feeling sentimental and emotional that his body had allowed that without rebelling against his wishes. He hopes it's not true, hopes that a remnant of the Jaemin they love is still there in its entirety.</p><p>He feels himself start to nod off, tired from all the work he's putting himself through this early in the morning. His hands dart out quickly to grab a mug and make some coffee. He wants to be awake enough to test his hypothesis.</p><p>A while later, they return, sweaty and groaning, immediately rushing to the bathroom to take a shower. Jaemin hears them bicker over who gets to use it first, and he wants to offer his own to use, but he's not sure if it would be welcomed. </p><p>He passes the time leaning on the counter, feeling inexplicably nervous for when they return. His fingers drum on the marble underneath, and he tries to calm himself down, <em> in and out, in and out. </em></p><p>Someone returns.</p><p>It's Jeno, who goes straight to the steaming bowl of food Jaemin has laid out for him.</p><p>Jaemin takes a deep, steadying breath, and sits next to him. He vaguely registers a word of thanks, for all the food he made, and he nods in acknowledgement, too worried to respond properly. </p><p><em> Just rest on his shoulders, </em> he tells himself. It won't be hard, he used to do it all the time. </p><p>It takes a second, but he does so, and Jeno tenses underneath him for a second before relaxing. </p><p>Jaemin risks looking up, and sees Jeno smiling at him. </p><p>He looks away. His skin begins to crawl. </p><p>It's negligible at first. But as time goes on, it's as if his skin is <em> screaming, </em> body locked in place and his entire being internally recoiling away from the point of contact. He feels <em> trapped </em>, but he has to continue this charade. Fuck not wanting a persona, he'll take anything to taste normalcy again. </p><p>It's the worst fifteen minutes of his life. When Jeno finishes eating, and he finally moved away, his skin is prickly and his breathing has picked up.</p><p>"That was fun, we should do that again, Jaemin," Jeno tells him, and Jaemin wants to <em> cry.  </em></p><p>And so he does, running away after blurting an excuse he doesn't remember, and forcing himself into the shower. He stays there until his skin stops burning, until his chest stops heaving, and at that point his brain feels so overloaded that even the dim lights in the room are irritating him. </p><p>He finds the softest, loosest pair of pajamas he can find. He turns off all the lights, shoves in headphones, and listens to white noise. There are no covers or pillows touching him, and as time goes on, he manages to relax. </p><p>The sun rises. He gets up without sleeping. </p><p> </p><p>He adds an extra spoon of coffee to his drink the next morning.</p><p> </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The groundwork has been laid!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Jaemin, after his checkup at the doctors, gets cleared to attend his dance practices, and he barely gets time to internally celebrate before he's whisked off to meet his therapist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her face is as kind as he remembers, and if he's being honest, he's missed her so much in the month that has passed that the sight of her washes away all the anxiety that had started to build up through the long check-ups and meetings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It seems she returns the sentiment, as her face positively glows when he sits down in front of her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She's always the one to start conversation between them, building up small. She asks about his back, his family, how he's feeling (he ignores this one), and then when she asks </span>
  <em>
    <span>How are your members doing?, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he freezes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mrs. Huan is a lovely woman, aged 50, kind and empathetic from the tips of her greying hair to the fluffy bunny slippers she wears in her office. She had reminded Jaemin so dearly of his grandmother that it had barely taken her a few sessions to break through his walls and get to his favorite topic; his members. She knows a lot about them, stories told through Jaemin's love infused lense. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She catches his hesitation easily, and her face contorts sympathetically. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Jaeminnie," she whispers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Jaemin lets it all out.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>His manager doesn't say anything when he walks out with red-rimmed eyes, merely ushers him into the car and drives him back in silence, pausing once upon Jaemin's request to get some coffee. Jaemin sees the way he hesitates at the order, but ultimately, he gives in, and Jaemin has his bitter concoction to sip on, a decent distraction.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>His first practice is a disaster. </p><p>
  <span>He knows his members would disagree, but it's the truth, at least by his standards. They start out slow — too slow — and he knows they're adjusting to fit his pace, and it makes him unreasonably angry at himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The choreo for the new comeback is still in the works, hence they redo old ones, starting from Chewing Gum, which he should know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And yeah, he remembers how to balance on a hoverboard, remembers where his lines are, remembers where his positions are.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except… nothing he does lines up with the others. He knows the moves, but his body has grown stiff and his movements are too rigid to even be passable. He expected this, yet he's still disappointed, and more than anything he's </span>
  <em>
    <span>embarrassed. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Nct is a group known for their dancing. Jaemin is </span>
  <em>
    <span>in</span>
  </em>
  <span> their dance lineup, this is unacceptable. And it sucks because he's so </span>
  <em>
    <span>slow </span>
  </em>
  <span>at memorising choreos, he knows it's going to take him forever to catch up to the level the others are at, where they're dancing as if it flows in their veins, as if they could do it in their sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin has only a few months of experience under his belt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The others have over a year. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And watching them in the mirror, there is a world of difference. The confidence they execute the moves with is something he does not have. The charisma they exude, even during a practice run, he does not have. The carefree demeanour, he does not have.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wants to cry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he pushes through, and despite regularly keeping up with exercises for the past month, he's so insanely tired near the end that he can barely keep standing, legs simultaneously weightless and weighed down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The worst part is that everyone else seems perfectly fine. Jaemin had known their stamina would be miles above his, but it still hurts to watch them so playful when he's barely able to stay upright. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only thing that's keeping him energized is the coffee he drank that morning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He requests to stay behind for extra practice, ignoring the eyes on him. He rejects Jisung's tentative offer to help him, offering a soft smile to soothe the burn he knows Jisung would be feeling whenever faced with rejection. He hopes it worked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The members shuffle out, leaving him alone. His manager tells him he can stay for an extra hour. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He ignores the twinge in his back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He starts the song.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>When he goes back to the dorm, forcing his limbs to cooperate, he’s drenched in sweat and exhausted beyond just a physical sense. He wants to curl up underneath his covers and sleep for twelve hours, undisturbed and dreamless.</p><p>
  <span>Of course, nothing ever goes easy for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He manages to shower in peace, but the moment he steps out is when things go south. He’s just pulled his pajamas on when the door swings open, and he can only barely suppress the irritation he feels. He forces himself to smile at the intruder - Renjun, who looks at him with a bright smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are we having for dinner tonight, Jaemin-ah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t matter that he’s barely conscious from the gruelling practice. It doesn’t matter that the only thing fueling him is coffee that he drank hours and hours ago. It doesn’t matter that he’s running on barely any sleep. It doesn’t matter, because he has a year of work to catch up on, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>least </span>
  </em>
  <span>he could do is help them out in the dorm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, it hurts. It hurts that they just assume he’d be up to it, but he supposes it’s unfair for them to do the work either. They all were tired, after all. Looking at the bigger picture, it only makes sense for him to do everything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he forces a smile and trudges out into the living room, where he’s immediately engulfed in a hug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His body screams.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He ignores it, patting Jeno’s back despite the stinging needles that stab him through every point of contact. He can’t breathe, but he has to hold it together. He doesn’t know if he’s making any progress with them, but he can’t have a repeat of that first day ever again. He could cry and scream all he wants </span>
  <em>
    <span>after </span>
  </em>
  <span>he gets away from their sight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Jeno lets go, he can’t bring himself to say a word, instead shuffling to the kitchen, bringing out pots and pans embedded into muscle memory. It’s a quick and simple dinner; instant tteokbokki, and he feeds Jisung some when the boy wanders into the kitchen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They all eat in relative silence - for which Jaemin is intensely grateful. They must really be tired, and he feels the unease inside him ebb a little when he realizes he did something to alleviate their exhaustion. When they finish, he collects the dishes and deposits them in the sink, rolling up his sleeves and getting to work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t have his earphones in, and it’s strange working in silence, save for the sound of running water and conversation from the living room. Bored, and little bit guilty, he listens in on what they’re talking about, eyeing them from behind the sink, and his heart sinks when he sees them type furiously on their phones, giggling every so often.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His phone does not alert him to any notifications. He wonders if they realize he’s not in the groupchat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he’s done, he slinks off to his room without telling anyone, and as his head hits the pillows, he realizes that he has to wake up tomorrow to cook them breakfast. He realizes that there’s still a section of the kitchen he hasn’t cleaned out. He realizes that he has to juggle all that with the practices scheduled for tomorrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His vision is blurry from sleep, but he still manages to set an alarm - four in the morning sounds like enough time to get everything done.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The clock strikes two. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He goes to sleep.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>His coffee is growing strong enough that his taste buds start to reject it. But he pushes on with it anyways, adding spoon after spoon, desperately grasping for any boost that can propel him through his never-ending schedule with only a few hours of sleep. </p><p>
  <span>His body is slowly giving into the fatigue, but he’s forcing it to function, caffeine his only choice. It doesn’t matter how worn out he feels. It only matters how content his members feel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He repeats this mantra in his head as he cooks, as he cleans, as he practices with them, as he practices without them, as he cooks even </span>
  <em>
    <span>more, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and on and on and on. It’s so </span>
  <em>
    <span>hard, </span>
  </em>
  <span>getting out of that bed every morning, but what choice does he have? He needs to secure his spot in the group once more; both on stage and off stage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hopes dearly that the three who don’t live in their dorms still consider him a member. He knows it’ll be awkward; they’re usually too preoccupied with each other to pay attention to Jaemin during practices, as it’s the only place they all can meet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This does not mean they've stopped sending him strange looks. In fact, they've only increased in intensity, and Jaemin </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows </span>
  </em>
  <span>they talk about him when he's not there. It's so obvious in the way conversation halts whenever he gets too close, whenever he walks in. It's so obvious at the false casual expressions they try to don, cracks visible on every surface. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He just hopes what they're saying isn't too bad. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thought of his perfect reunion has been pushed to the back of his head. The disappointment has become a permanent ache. His brain targets damage control now. At least if he's not in their good books, he can do his best to not be in their bad books as well. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something in his mind nags that his logic is faulty, but he shoots it down spitefully whenever it tries to talk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's okay. He's okay. Any progress is still progress. He's more fluid in his movements now, he has control of his limbs, his stamina improves slowly. The ends justify the means. It doesn't matter that he's barely awake most of the time, barely functioning, barely alive. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only good thing to come out of everything is that his aversion to physical touch slowly begins to disappear. He begins to like it when </span>
  <em>
    <span>he's</span>
  </em>
  <span> the one initiating, so he latches onto Jeno before Jeno can latch onto him. Ruffles Renjun's hair before Renjun can do it to him. Things like that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their relationship is still… strange. But he thinks they see that he's trying. Conversation is still awkward and slow, but Jaemin isn't a big fan of talking anyways. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He still does avoid them whenever possible. It's a fear that makes him insanely guilty, but a fear that propels him nonetheless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fear that everytime he talks to them, they'll say something that would haunt him for days. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We just miss the old you. You don't talk as much anymore. You don't cling to us anymore</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Endless reminders of what he was, what he can never be again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it's okay. He'll manage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another day passes, the same painful routine, when suddenly, something throws it all off balance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A text from Chenle. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>Lele: </b>
  <span>Hyung, let's meet up! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He texts back immediately, more than a bit surprised.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Nana: </b>
  <span>:0? When, where?</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Lele: </b>
  <span>the usual spot!! Just the two of us :] After practice tmr?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could afford to miss his extra practices, if it meant meeting up with Chenle. He hasn't had much opportunity to talk to the younger as he spends most of their shared practices stuck in his own brain, berating himself for every move he does.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's wary, and scared, and just the bit skeptical of the sudden invitation, but ultimately, how much he's missed Chenle overpowers it all, and he types out, </span>
</p><p>
  <b>Nana: </b>
  <span>sure!! c u then! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chenle doesn't seek him out during the practice next day, but he does shoot Jaemin a bright smile. When it's over, the others shuffle out — used to Jaemin staying behind and rejecting their offers of help — while Chenle waits at the door, bouncing in place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hyung! Let's go!" He exclaims when Jaemin finishes lacing up his shoes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin nods, grinning, uplifted by the energy Chenle is exhibiting, his own exhaustion momentarily forgotten. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They walk to the restaurant in silence, and Jaemin is surprised, because he had expected Chenle to fill in the silence similar to how Jisung would've done in his place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they sit down at their designated booth, Chenle grins at Jaemin, tapping on the hardwood tables a rhythm Jaemin faintly recognises. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How have you been?" Chenle says, and with anyone else it would've come off as awkward small talk, but Chenle asks as if he's genuinely interested in the answer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm alright. I've missed you, Chenle," Jaemin responds honestly, revelling in the expression of surprise and joy that covers Chenle's face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I've missed you too! I'm always hogged by everyone else at practices, so I can never talk to you there," Chenle says, sipping on his water slowly. Just when Jaemin thinks he won't continue, he adds, "they'll lecture me if I try anyways. They're very stupid aren't they, hyung?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin blinks, surprised at the sudden twist, at the honesty lacing the words, at the uncharacteristic frown on Chenle's face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"They're always telling me to give you space, and Jisung's always getting lectured for talking about the year you missed, and they're always, </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> talking about how they're so worried about you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's a sudden rant, that's for sure, and Jaemin is left speechless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chenle bursts into giggles the moment he sees Jaemin's flabbergasted expression. When he calms down, he says, "Jisung told me you said things change. That includes me too, hyung. I'm not exactly a child anymore, I know when to call out bullshit when I see it. The hyung's idea that you're somehow more sad because you don't talk much anymore is exactly that; bullshit." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Chenle…" Jaemin manages to say, mind whirling at the new onslaught of information, at the new Chenle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"They've all changed. They just don't realise it because they saw it as it happened." Chenle continues, clearly having more to say. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>" Look… hyung… sometimes I'm in a bad mood right? And they're always like, </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh Chenle, my baby, what's wrong? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Well, nothing's wrong!" he huffs, heated. "I'm just having an off day! Leave me alone! And then I see they're doing the same thing to you, except you aren't having an off-day, it's just your personality now, and it's so frustrating to watch, because what are you meant to do?? Stop being yourself?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sinks down, face squished against his elbow as he stares up at Jaemin with earnest eyes. "They won't listen to me, and Jisung's too scared to even try, so at least I thought I should talk to you about it. To… to let you know, Jisung and I don't care what you're like anymore, because you're </span>
  <em>
    <span>here, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and you're  still Jaemin hyung, and that's all that matters to us."</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Holy shit.</span>
  </em>
  <span> What can Jaemin even say to that? He's so overwhelmed, the rush of pride, fondness and happiness that crashes through his entire being so new, so fresh that he's momentarily stunned. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We miss the old Jaemin</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>You're here, and you're still Jaemin hyung, and that's all that matters. </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>A counter to the words that has haunted him for all these days. He wonders if Chenle even realizes the impact he just had on his being, for Jaemin feels ten times lighter, like he could float away and live amongst the clouds if he so desired. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The waiter comes to take their orders. Jaemin looks at Chenle and says, "order whatever you'd like. My treat."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The smile he receives in return is worth more than any money he could've spent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time, he leaves the restaurant, mind buzzing and stomach full, content and elated. He bids farewell to Chenle before entering the elevator. He has boxes of takeout in his hand, for everyone else, and he deposits them onto the dining table with a skip in his steps. He won't have to cook today, that's a relief. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He thinks he deserves a nap. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He has just reached his bed when his stomach twists violently, the pain so intense his vision flashes white for a second, and he stumbles, hunching over. He only has a moment to lunge towards the bathroom, barely making it in as he throws up all over the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Panting, he looks up at the mirror for the first time in days. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn't recognize the boy who stares back. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I am v sorry its so short dbdjdn </p><p>Once again reminder that nobody is a bad guy here.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>cw! tags + mentions of vomit</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He stares, unfeeling, at the contents of his stomach, laid out bare in front of him. There is the sound of playful conversation outside the door, and Jaemin must wait for them to disperse before he can leave the room to grab the mop to clean it up. His gaze is fixed pointedly away from the mirror; he doesn’t know when his eyes got so sunken in, when his skin had gotten so dry, when his lips had gotten so cracked. It’s such a wild contrast from the image of the perfect visual he was meant to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, it reaches midnight, and he leaves the room once it goes completely silent outside. The spark of joy from his conversation with Chenle was fleeting, and has faded entirely. He glances at the boxes of takeout thrown on the table, messy, taunting him to clean it up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Couldn’t they have at least taken it to the trash can?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He ignores it, goes back to his room and cleans his own mess up. He doesn’t know what time it is when he goes to bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What feels like only minutes pass. The shrill ringing of his alarm wakes him up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What was he expecting? He wasn’t entitled to breaks anymore, not after going on one for an entire year.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, he can’t help but sigh as he struggles to get up. He tries to pretend that it didn’t take him longer than normal to haul himself to his feet, his back feeling too delicate for comfort.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He cleans away the boxes, and begins his routine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he stares into the black liquid swirling in his second mug of the day, barely morning, he wonders how things had gotten this far.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>He falls into a sort of detached acceptance. He drills his body through growling practices everyday, so used to the ache that it barely registers anymore. He knows, deep inside somewhere, that it isn't meant to hurt this much, but he finds that he doesn't care. Pain, at least, is a concrete feeling. He's not sure if he's happy. He's not sure if he's sad. He doesn't know if he's angry. But he does know he's in pain, and he revels in the feeling of being confident in something for once. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sleep becomes a luxury. It doesn't matter anymore, because not only has he upped the shots of caffeine per cup, he's also increased the number of cups itself. It's not healthy, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but what else can he do? As far as he's concerned, he's trapped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn't talk to anyone anymore, not even Jisung, who — bless his little heart — tries so hard. But Jaemin is barely responsive, and eventually he scares him away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their new choreography is hard. Black on black even more so, but they haven't gotten into the full swing of practice for that yet. It's tiring enough dealing with the dream members, he's not sure how he could deal with the entirety of NCT in one room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeno and Renjun are probably tired of him by now. It's not like he's being purposely difficult, he's just so </span>
  <em>
    <span>tired</span>
  </em>
  <span>, that all he wants is silent company; a concept they refuse to grasp. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The nail in the coffin is his stomach; always, </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span>, in pain because of the excessive coffee he drinks. Coffee that he can't stop, because the moment he does, he gets skull splitting headaches so painful it knocks him out for the entire day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's just… trapped. Friendless, alone, unhappy, and in pain. There's nowhere left for him to go, but there's nowhere left for him to stay either. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Manager hyung frowns when Jaemin steps out for his monthly dermatologist appointment. Jaemin wonders if he's trying to match the tired taut lines of his body to the bright, forever smiling boy that he used to be. He's very familiar with that look now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Have you been eating?" he asks. Jaemin nods, expecting the question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> He had been eating, he's just also been throwing everything up, and eventually the pain in his stomach got so bad that he just stopped altogether. Only bits and pieces, enough to fuel him, not enough to fill him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You should take a break from your extra practices," hyung tries again, but Jaemin shakes his head. That's one thing he can't skip, if he can't work with them off stage then at least on stage. His fans have waited for so long, Jaemin can't show up with a half-baked performance and awkward lines. He has to try harder, he has to push himself. He's had enough of a break anyways. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, his manager relents, and tells him, "just be careful with your back, okay?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin nods, stiff. The truth is he hasn't been careful at all, skipping his stretches, exercises, and pushing himself way past his limit. He knows it's only time before it flares up </span>
  <em>
    <span>again, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and this time there would be no one to blame but himself and his idiotic actions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But strangely, Jaemin wants it to happen. At least that way there would be distance between him and everyone, and he wouldn't have to play a charade. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knows it's a horrible thought to have. Who would wish such a thing? Especially when he knows first hand how hard it is, the uncertainty of recovery and the painful PT sessions. But </span>
  <em>
    <span>still. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He'd take anything over the world he's walking in now, barely feeling, barely awake, barely himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t even know what “himself” even means anymore. Nothing about his actions feel genuine anymore, they’re all awkward or forced. He doesn’t fit with anyone the way he used to, and he feels like the others won’t accommodate him unless he morphed back to the “old him”.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Jaemin thinks that if there’s one thing he can control, it’s his appearance. He knows his current diet isn’t good for it at all, but he thinks he can counter it by hitting the gym more often. He fights with the idea of going with Jeno. He knows that his best friend (he’s not sure if it’s appropriate to call him that anymore) wouldn’t mind, and maybe… maybe Jaemin just needs some alone time with Jeno. No one else present; Jeno and him go way, way back, and he likes to think that Jeno wouldn’t just throw all that away. He wonders if it’s bad to hope that his absence was as hard on Jeno as it was on himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he steels himself, and when Jeno stumbles into the kitchen the next morning, instead of running away, he asks Jeno if he could become his new gym partner. He tries to not wince at the way Jeno does a double take at his appearance. He knows how ragged he looks, he avoids mirrors now only to avoid looking at himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Jeno agrees, face contorting into an easy smile that makes Jaemin relax, and something makes him stay in the kitchen as Jeno ladles in the food he made over his rice. Jeno seems surprised by this development too; but for some reason, he doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>say anything. </span>
  </em>
  <span>In fact, even as he sits down, even as he eats his food, even as Jaemin takes a seat across him, he doesn’t say anything. Merely smiles at Jaemin, and when he’s done, he whispers out a, “thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin can’t help the shock that jolts him, because he doesn’t remember the last time he got a thank you like that, so genuine and unprompted. He wonders if his theory is working, that they’re warming up to him because he’s doing so much for them, and he feels happy that all his efforts aren’t for naught. He vows to put his all into cooking from here onwards, if only to hear that expression of gratitude once more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeno tells him he’ll be leaving for the gym after the food settles in his stomach, which gives Jaemin plenty of time to clean up the dishes and pots, and then take a shower. He doesn’t look in the mirror, but he wonders what Jeno saw that made him react that way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulls on his tracksuit, and follows Jeno out, where they’re taken to the company gym. The ride there is quiet too, and Jaemin wonders if Jeno is respecting his wishes, or if he;s just grown sick of Jaemin. It’s not an easy thought, and he shifts, uneasy as the silence begins to feel suffocating. The universe must really love playing jokes on him, making him wish for injury right after recovering from one, making him wish for noise when all he wanted was quiet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s still early in the morning, but Jaemin is restless from the coffee he drank that morning. He made sure to eat something beforehand, in hopes that his stomach won’t give out on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The gym is empty, and their trainer isn’t around either. Jeno tells him he’s just going to do some cardio, and not push himself further, since their dance practices count as exercise. Jaemin agrees, hoping his stamina would improve. He puts his earphones in, loses himself in the music and the burn of his muscles. He knows his legs shouldn’t be feeling this heavy, every step a herculean effort, but what can he do? Either he gives up extra practices, gym sessions, or his chores. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s essentially the same as asking him if he’d rather lose his fans, Jeno, or his members. He doesn’t think it’s fair to choose, so he doesn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The twinge in his back is present once more. His body isn’t ready for all the physical activity he’s pushing it to do, but he knows he can’t slow down. It would be humiliating next to Jeno, who’s running like it’s a mere afterthought, barely even out of breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ever-present need to cry is back. Jaemin ignores it. Later, at night, when he’s alone, he tells his body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then, he stumbles in his steps, and his back </span>
  <em>
    <span>screams. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He falls off the treadmill, curling up on the floor, panting heavily as he waits for the pain to recede. </span>
  <em>
    <span>One, two three…. One two three…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t help; it never does, but he tries anyways. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For once, he feels like the old Jaemin again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wonders if it’s something to celebrate, when his shoulders are trembling, and his tears begin to fall. He wonders if the embarrassment of slowing down would’ve been greater than the embarrassment of lying on the floor, sobbing, unable to get up. He wonders if it was worth it. If any of this was worth it. If he should’ve just left NCT altogether and started a normal life once again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeno is trying to talk to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin doesn’t want to listen. He covers his ears. A hand touches his shoulder and he jerks so violently the pain comes back full force. A whimper breaks out his throat, and he wants to scream, to cry, to tear his hair out, to hit Jeno. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hand returns, this time much more soft, much more careful. Jaemin tries to relax into it, chest heaving from the force of his sobs. Slowly, he’s pulled upright, and he falls into Jeno’s warm, solid chest. He feels so </span>
  <em>
    <span>small </span>
  </em>
  <span>here, like Jeno’s arms are enough of a shield to protect him from the rest of the world, like Jeno’s body is a cocoon that can cover him forever. He loses all the fight in him, going completely lax, and he hears Jeno’s concerned calls, but he’s just so </span>
  <em>
    <span>tired.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He feels the arms around him tighten. It does nothing to stop him from falling into blackness.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>He blinks, head pounding as his eyes adjust to focus. He tries to get up, wincing at the sting that travels down his back. Immediately, a pair of hands reach out to steady him, and Jaemin stares at the figure - Jeno - who stares back with a miserable expression. Jaemin reaches out to him on instinct, and he finds himself asking, “what’s wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeno’s face crumples, covering Jamein’s hand with his own. “Why are you asking </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> that? Why? Why… why didn’t you say anything? What’s going </span>
  <em>
    <span>on </span>
  </em>
  <span>with you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin’s sleep-addled brain isn’t awake enough to respond on time. He’s leaning against the wall of the gym, and he stares up at the overhead lights, wondering how he could answer a question he himself doesn’t understand. He doesn’t know when things escalated this far either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jaemin, are you okay?” Jeno asks, undeterred by the lack of an answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin stares at him, stares at the contours of Jeno’s face, the lines of his frown. He reaches out to smooth the crease between his brows, saying, “don’t look so sad, Jeno…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeno flinches, and his frown only increases in intensity. “Jaemin… this isn’t about me, just </span>
  <em>
    <span>please </span>
  </em>
  <span>tell me if you’re alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin shrugs. Everything is hazy. “Hurts,” he answers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hurts where? I-is it your back again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Back… legs… head… I don’t know, just… everything,” Jaemin slurs out, head lolling against Jeno’s shoulder. A hand cups the back of his head, and Jaemin tries to let himself relax.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“W-wait… okay…” Jeno says, clearly frazzled. He looks around for something, stretching to receive a water bottle from the shelf next to them. “Here, drink this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin accepts, only because he’s too tired to resist, and he allows the lukewarm liquid to soothe his parched throat. Next to him, Jeno takes a deep breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jaemin, have you been doing your stretches?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin shrugs. Jeno sighs, and continues, “did you… did you eat this morning?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A banana… and coffee,” Jaemin answers, his head clearing. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Morning </span>
  </em>
  <span>was kind of an overstatement, the sun hadn’t even risen, and considering he threw up beforehand, it wasn’t nearly enough food for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeno is silent, before he begins to shift. Jaemin whines involuntarily at the loss of warmth, but Jeno keeps his hand steady on his shoulders as he moves to sit in front of Jaemin. He studies Jaemin’s face, the half delirious eyes, the sunken in circles surrounding it, and the painfully dry lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jaemin, what’s going on with you?” Jeno asks again, and his voice is tinged in something almost remorseful. Jaemin doesn’t want Jeno to feel such emotions; he’d rather have Jeno oblivious to his struggles than whatever this is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-you said your back hurt… I… I called manager hyung, you should get it checked out Jaemin, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please. </span>
  </em>
  <span>What if you have to take another break, I can’t lose you</span>
  <em>
    <span> again!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jeno cries out, composure breaking the longer Jaemin stays silent, and Jaemin feels his heart shatter along with it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you… did you ever get me back though? The me that you missed,” Jaemin whispers, staring at his fingers, calloused and scarred from all the kitchen work he’s been doing. He wonders if Jeno is actually going to miss the current Jaemin if he ever disappears, or if he’ll just stick to his longing for the past Jaemin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The.. the Jaemin that you missed was happy right? And talkative, and funny, and bright, and he would never break down like this. I- I’m not him anymore, Jeno. I don’t think it would matter to you if I disappear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is a sharp intake of breath. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Jaemin…” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jeno whispers, reaching over to caress his cheek. “Jaemin, no. Please, why would you think that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you said it!” Jaemin can’t help but cry out, the tears returning, the pent up frustration at himself, at them, at the world spilling out, his hold on his emotions entirely gone. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>You </span>
  </em>
  <span>were the one who told me you missed the old me, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>were the one who made me feel like shit, and I can’t even be </span>
  <em>
    <span>mad </span>
  </em>
  <span>because I know you didn’t mean it like that, but I keep taking it to heart… and… and I’m so </span>
  <em>
    <span>tired </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jeno. I’m always in pain, I keep throwing up, I… I miss being happy, I miss feeling accepted, I miss being with you guys.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes in a deep, shaky breath, as his voice begins to break. “I… I know I’m a stranger compared to the Jaemin you loved but… I hate being treated like one. I hate that none of you are friends with me anymore. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Me, </span>
  </em>
  <span>the actual me, not a pretense or an expired version.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is silence, and his heart pounds hard enough to hurt. Jeno looks stunned, and there are tears gathering in his eyes, and Jaemin wants to </span>
  <em>
    <span>cry, </span>
  </em>
  <span>because what did he just do? He was supposed to get in their good books, make them happy, but here he is, accomplishing none of that. Jeno is crying, and Jeno is going to hate him, and there is nothing Jaemin can do about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I- I’m sorry,” he tries to apologize, but it comes out weak and garbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeno lets out a pained noise, shaking his head violently. “Jaemin… don’t apologize, please don’t apologize. Jaemin, I love you so much, I’m so happy you’re back… whatever you’re like now, it doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>matter </span>
  </em>
  <span>to me, and I’m so sorry I was so blinded… Jaemin, please, stop doing this to yourself, we love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Then why do you make me do everything? Why do I barely get a thank you from anyone? Why do I have to ruin myself trying to please everyone? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>But he doesn’t say any of that. Jeno’s approval feels like a weight off his chest, but there are five more members for Jaemin to please. He can’t just stop, just because one of them told him to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knows Jeno wouldn’t agree with him, so he remains silent, slowly unfurling his arms and sticking them out. He genuinely wants a hug now, no pretenses, no caricatures. Jeno sinks into his arms, and they stay there, dried sweat and tears everywhere, wrapped in each other’s warmth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin doesn’t feel happy. But he doesn’t feel the overwhelming numbness either. He feels… something. Something unidentifiable, like a soft melancholy woven into tentative hope and relief. It’s more than he could’ve ever asked for.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>The car ride home was somber, both of them exhausted from the ordeal, but Jeno seems adamant on not letting Jaemin go. He has his arms wound tight around Jaemin's shoulders. Jaemin does not reciprocate, but he doesn't feel inclined to push away either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Jaemin had brushed off his pain as a consequence of skipping his stretches, and both his manager and Jeno made him promise to do them again. Jaemin doesn’t know how he can fit it into his already packed schedule, but he agrees to soothe their nerves. In return, he asks Jeno not to tell anyone about the day. Already guilty enough, Jeno doesn’t fight on it. Jaemin knows they aren’t entirely convinced about his health, they’re just stupidly trusting his judgement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they arrive at the dorms, it’s afternoon. They both part ways to take a shower and get changed, and on auto-pilot, Jaemin heads to the kitchen to cook them lunch, when Jeno appears and grabs his arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jaemin, let’s order takeout for today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin hesitates, but upon seeing the determined look on Jeno’s face, he agrees, and they order boxes of fried rice. Jaemin insists on paying, and Jeno seems ruffled by it. It seems like a strange back and forth that they’re doing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin heads to his room to try and squeeze in a nap. The exhaustion of the day is catching up and his eyes are barely staying open. Like a petulant child, Jeno whines, asking to join, and Jaemin complies, thinking that the extra warmth must be nice. As expected, he drifts off easily, and when he wakes, it’s dark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How long had he slept? There is no extra weight on his side anymore, even Jeno has gotten up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Panic overtakes him, when he sees the time. It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>late. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He had missed dinner. Guilt propels him to throw off the covers, and he practically runs into the living room, only to find the other three gathered around the boxes of takeout, conversing happily, atmosphere light and joyous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin knows if he joins, the merry mood will disappear. He ignores the way his heart sinks, as he turns on his heels and heads back into his room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t realize he had only had two cups of coffee that day. An insistent pounding begins to build behind his eyes, and eventually, it becomes excruciating.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>One after the other, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jaemin thinks, so frustrated he wants to tear at his skin. He wants a </span>
  <em>
    <span>break. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He’s sick of it, sick of all the pain, sick of being a coward, sick of being casted out. The pain is unbearable, so agonizing that he isn’t able to even sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he’s sure the living room is empty, he finds himself staring down at his reflection in the pure black liquid. There is a choice for him to make; suffer intense abdominal cramps, or suffer intense migraines.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s how his life is now, isn’t it? One dilemma after the other. Always stuck between two choices that will tear his body apart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He drinks the cup.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hi, so, the way Jaemin perceives validation is very inconsistent,,, the moment he detaches himself from someone he begins to think they don't care for him, eg: both chenle and jisung have expressed support for him but his brain just does not register it in the long-run. It's something I based off of personal experiences, so please be kind! It's not a writing error, I just thought I'd clarify...</p><p>As always, kudos and comments are much beloved!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I apologize for the long wait ;-;</p><p>Cw : mentions of vomiting</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>To say Jeno became overprotective was an understatement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy wouldn't leave Jaemin alone. He's the one to greet him first thing in the morning, and he stays up all night until Jaemin feigns sleep. He hovers with an arm ready to support Jaemin if he falters, and — quite endearingly — he tries his best to help out in the kitchen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin isn't sure what to make of this new development. On one hand, he's getting all the attention he's been craving, but on the other hand, it's a bit suffocating trying to sneak in cups of coffee or lying about how many hours he got to sleep. Of course, he'll never tell Jeno to back away, but late at night, when he's finally alone, he finds himself missing the time he could spend with himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And it feels... superficial, almost. Jeno doesn't stop him from practicing extra, yet still expects him to cook, to clean, to accompany him to the gym. If he truly was concerned, shouldn't he ease one of the loads off Jaemin's shoulders? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>How selfish. How hypocritical. Whining for attention all the time, only to wish it gone when he finally gets it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He continues going to the gym, the pounding in his head background music to him. The churning of his stomach is somehow worse, but Jaemin is nothing if not stubborn. He continues cooking, continues cleaning, continues practicing, though he knows someday it'll all bite him in the ass again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he always thought of that someday as a distant future. Never, had he assumed that that someday would be just around the corner. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It starts like this:</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jisung wakes him up before Jeno can, and Jaemin does not mention to him that he had fallen asleep only an hour ago. He gets up without complaining, and cooks Jisung the eggs he wants. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wow, you're making a mess," Jisung comments over his shoulder, coy and playful as always. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin rolls his eyes, brandishing his spatula at Jisung, saying, "go to your seat before I smack you with this." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung laughs and complies, and it's silent from there onwards. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin has mixed feelings about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung tries his best to act like everything is normal around him. He still whines, still pouts, still teases; everything that was present in their previous dynamic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin is well aware that Jisung and Chenle are constantly keeping their eye on him, but he's been keeping this pretense up for long enough that his facade stretches across him like second skin, and he hasn't let anything slip past the cracks that have been threatening to show. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deep inside, he hates that Jisung acts like nothing is wrong. Hates that Jisung never asks him if he's alright, or if he's slept, or if he's eaten. Once again, he's disgusted at having such thoughts towards his beloved youngest, and he finds his spite towards himself growing day by day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn't know what he wants anymore. Distance pissed him off, yet the moment Jeno got close again, he hated it. Pity pissed him off too, but the moment Jisung dropped it, he found himself annoyed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knows they all know something is up. He doesn't think Jeno kept his promise of keeping everything that happened in the gym a secret, not when he catches Renjun eyeing him worriedly at all times of day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hah! As if they actually cared. If they did, they wouldn't leave all the work to him. They wouldn't treat him like a goddamn maid, make him do everything. He's an idol, for fuck's sake, not a single parent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It scares him, how bitter he's becoming. Every little thing angers him, from their breathing to their words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yet he never shows it, never stops loving them whole-heartedly. They were his entire childhood, his only friends. They've stayed by his side through everything, how could he not treasure them? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hates it. The back and forth in his mind is a hell to live through. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's washing his dishes through his clouded mind, Jisung happily eating behind him, when Jeno bursts into the kitchen with messy hair and glasses askew. He relaxes when he makes eye contact with Jaemin, but frowns when the smile he receives is nothing like the bright, joyous ones he was used to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Did you cook again?" Jeno asks, staring at Jisung with a strange look. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," Jaemin answers, scrubbing at a stubborn piece of food lodged at the bottom of his favorite pan. He assumes Jeno is upset because he couldn't help with cooking and doesn't pay him much mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That is, until Jeno marches over to Jisung, and says in a quiet, deadly voice, "let's go out to talk, Jisung." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin freezes at the unfamiliar tone, but Jisung is none the wiser as he gets up with only minimal complaints and skips out the room with Jeno in tow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He has a bad feeling about this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite the guilt that claws at him, telling him to mind his own business, he drops the sponge into the sink and creeps towards the door, peeking at where they're talking softly. Thank god for his sensitive ears; he can pick up the conversation fairly easily, even over his extraordinarily loud heartbeat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Jisung, why would you ask him to cook?" Jeno asks, sounding wholly disappointed, hands on his hips. The Jaemin of before would laugh at his uncanny resemblance to a father, but the Jaemin of now can only feel a vague hint of confusion above the buzz of numbness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I — I was hungry?" Jisung says, sounding just as baffled as Jaemin, obviously picking up on Jeno's disapproval as he shrinks into himself. He rushes to explain, "he's always cooking, so I just thought I'd ask… And he always cooked for me before too so I…" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeno sighs. "Jisung, have you looked at him? He looks exhausted, you can't keep asking him to do things for you." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But he would've done it regardless," Jisung stresses, sounding defensive, which Jaemin thinks is justified because what was Jeno going on about? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How do you know he wasn't planning on taking a break today? Come on, Jisung, let's be a little considerate." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But... but you guys were the ones who told me to make him cook more... y- you said he enjoys it, that he needs that normalcy...." Jisung responds, eyes wide as he struggles to understand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few beats of silence pass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Jisung... I think we made a mistake," Jeno says, quiet, a confession. His head hangs low, his hands are intertwined. Ashamed. Lee Jeno looks </span>
  <em>
    <span>ashamed</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something in that sentence sets alight a fire inside of Jaemin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's out of his hiding spot before he knows it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Jaemin!" Jeno blinks in surprise, before his brows furrow. "Were you listening?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe it's the lack of sleep. The constant pain through his veins. The bitterness that has taken over his entire soul. But Jaemin finds that suddenly, all his carefully placed restraints are gone, and his tongue snaps like a whip. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Lee Jeno, what </span>
  <em>
    <span>right</span>
  </em>
  <span> did you guys have to decide what I enjoy and what I do not enjoy? I've been killing myself trying to meet </span>
  <em>
    <span>your </span>
  </em>
  <span>demands, and all this time it's because you thought I </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed</span>
  </em>
  <span> it?" He cries out, unable to stop, not even when Jisung's face crumples, not even when Jeno's jaw drops. His hurt propels him to speak before his brain can put a hold to it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> "I came back hoping you'll have a place for me, hoping I was still welcomed, but… a-all of you… you keep leaving me out of things, you keep using me as a servant, you just… you just take and you never give back. I— I don't even know why I'm saying this, because I've already said everything at the gym, and I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> you told everyone —" he says, as Jeno opens his mouth  "— but nothing changed except everyone looking at me like I'm made of broken glass."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes a deep breath, as tears begin to pour out of his eyes, as his words begin to clog in his throat. "I — I don't know what to ask anymore. Am I asking too much?  But </span>
  <em>
    <span>you're</span>
  </em>
  <span> all asking too much of me. Is all this concern just a pretense? If you truly cared… if you truly cared about me, then you wouldn't be doing this to me," he ends, the bitterness returning tenfold, spite dripping in every word. His tongue is a blade that cuts, and Jeno and Jisung are left to drown in their wounds as he turns his back on them and marches to his room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They don't care about him. It all makes sense now. Why else would they do this to him?  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All this time, he had deluded himself, thinking that they still loved him. That they were just awkward, but deep inside they were still the same members he had left behind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Jaemin had changed, of course they would've as well. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were unrecognisable to him now. Blurry faces replace the beaming figures he once tucked close to his heart. The warmth he always felt from their memories are replaced with a chill. Something akin to lead sinks into his stomach as he realizes, this is his reality now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No more Jeno. No more Jisung. No more Renjun, or anyone else, because he had just snapped at them. He had just broken the thread that was already pulled taut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's so conflicted. Everything hurts. All this time, they had been conspiring behind his back to make him do all the work, because they thought he enjoyed it? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He supposes he couldn't fault them for that. He had never complained, after all, so it's a reasonable conclusion to make. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But if they could see the exhaustion, the pain he was enduring, why wouldn't they put a stop to it? Why didn't they look out for him more?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hates it. Hates them. Hates himself. Hates everything. He doesn't know his own feelings anymore. He doesn't know if the anger that floods his veins is towards them or towards himself. He doesn't know what's justified and what isn't.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wishes he never came back. He wishes he had quit, moved on, idol life a fragment of the past. Then maybe things wouldn't have turned out like this. He wouldn't be left behind to doubt his own sanity. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hates it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His head hurts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His room is empty as always. It's messy; he has no time to clean it up after cleaning the rest of the dorm. This is not a home to him, it's a cell. A compartment to trap him in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes a step. Pain flares in his legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He ignores it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another step. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His vision begins to fade. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next step never comes. He collapses into a heap onto the ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, slowly, everything turns into darkness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, his consciousness fades. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Dehydration," their manager explains through the phone. "And exhaustion, among other things. He's been excessively losing fluid, especially from sweating, and they're suspecting he's been throwing up a lot judging by the state of his teeth and tongue, and he hasn't been eating or drinking enough to compensate for that loss." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, alright. Thanks for telling us," Renjun responds, trying not to let the tremble in his voice show,  and the call ends. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes a second to process the words. Tries to remember the last time he saw Jaemin eat, but he draws a blank. Tries to remember the last time he saw Jaemin drink, but his memory only shows Jaemin sipping on cups of coffee. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Coffee, which, when ingested in excess, can cause nausea and severe stomach aches. Renjun has had a suspicion for a while that Jaemin was going far beyond a normal caffeine intake, and this just confirms it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He curses himself for overlooking it, trusting that Jaemin would take care of himself. He had just assumed Jaemin wasn't eating with them because he wanted space, that he was still keeping up with his meals in his free time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the more Renjun thinks about, the more he realizes Jaemin doesn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> any free time. Not when he goes to the gym, not when he stays behind for hours after practice, not when he's constantly scrubbing the dorm and cooking large meals three times a day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's hard enough for Renjun to balance only sleep with his busy practice times. He can't imagine how Jaemin was surviving. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sacrificing sleep, meals, and free time was something they're all used to, but there always came rest days, where they could stay in bed all day, indulge in hearty meals, and do absolutely nothing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Renjun remembers the rest days they got. Remembers seeing Jaemin cleaning out their old storage room. Remembers seeing Jaemin scrub and scrub at the dirty floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why did he do all that? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Renjun doesn't understand. But he can't help but feel disgusted at himself for not stepping in, even when he noticed everything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Part of it was fueled by misplaced spite. He had started to dislike Jaemin's tendency to avoid them, assuming that Jaemin just hated them and their company. Even when he noticed Jaemin working himself to the bone, he had told himself that Jaemin didn't care about them, and had left it alone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>How stupid, now that he thinks about it. After all, why would Jaemin do all that, if not out of love? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His thoughts are interrupted by a sob. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His stares as Jisung buries his head in his hands, shoulders shaking from the force of his tears. Chenle, who had arrived as soon as he heard the news, immediately envelopes him in a hug, rubbing a hand down his back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Next to Renjun, Jeno stares at the duo with a pinched expression, guilty and concerned all at once. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was a disaster. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He decides Jisung would be alright with Chenle pressed against his side. He takes Jeno's hand and drags him into the kitchen, out of their prying eyes and ears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why do you look like that?" He asks, cutting to the chase. Jeno does not flinch, just accepts it, used to Renjun's brand of bluntness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeno sighs, leaning against the counter. He stares at the surface coated with pepper and bits of raw egg, Jaemin unable to clean them in his haste to get away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Renjun, I think we did that to Jaemin," he admits, staring up with glistening, vulnerable eyes, so rare on the usually calm and composed boy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Renjun feels his heart wrench. To know he was not alone in the blame feels both relieving and like a punch to the gut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He told me... we shouldn't have assumed he enjoys cooking and cleaning and everything. H — he said he's been killing himself trying to meet our demands," Jeno sniffs, head hanging low as the weight of his words descend upon them both. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Renjun thinks his heart has never felt so torn. To support both himself and Jeno, he wraps the boy in a hug and rests his head on Jeno's shoulders. He tries, but fails, to even out his breathing, as he realizes what they have done. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Part of him tries to argue that if Jaemin was bothered by it, he should've spoken out sooner. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he knows that's a vile thought to have. Jaemin is the victim in this situation; blaming him will do nothing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They should've just accepted him. Communicated with him. Included him. They had run with pointless assumptions; that Jaemin was the same, that Jaemin needed space, that Jaemin liked doing all the chores, and look where it got them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wants to cry. Stuck in the dorms, with no way of knowing how Jaemin is truly doing, he feels so helpless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"When we were trainees," he finds himself speaking. "I would always close myself off whenever things got too overwhelming. I — I would distance myself, and be all snappy and rude." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeno smiles a little, recalling the little incidents of Renjun getting frustrated at them for no reason. Back then, it felt like the end of the world, but looking back on them, they're masked with a filter of nostalgia and faint amusement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Whenever that would happen," he continues, moving away from Jeno to sit on the countertop, "Jaemin would always be the one to drag me out. He wouldn't force me to talk, but he'd give me a distraction. Food, or games, or something, until I felt comfortable enough to talk about what was bothering me." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeno's smile turns bitter. "We should've done that for him, huh?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah. And you know what? I heard the kids talking, and Chenle did actually do that. Went and took Jaemin out to eat, and they seemed to have a good time. We just... we thought we were being smart but..." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeno sighs once more. "I suppose there's no point regretting now. We have to make things right." He turns to look at the wall separating the kitchen from the living room with an unreadable expression. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Renjun marvels at Jeno's composure. He wishes he could be like Jeno. Able to let the past go so easily, eyes set on the future at all times. Jeno spends no time dwelling on regrets, or what-if's. He changes the present, doesn't worry about changing the past. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How will you do that?" he asks, unable to think of any way to solve the present.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll start with Jisung," Jeno says easily. "I was unfair to him today. He didn't do anything wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Renjun can't help but let out a wry chuckle, wiping stray tears off his face. "Who knew the day would come when they became the mature ones?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We really were so childish," Jeno laments. "God, I can't even imagine how we can make it up to Jaemin. What if... what if he doesn't accept our apologies?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Renjun pauses a little, at the rare uncertainty painting Jeno's words. It's understandable, of course, that's his best friend after all. Still, it's not a position he finds himself in often, and he struggles to answer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Jaemin has always been quick to forgive, hasn't he?" he tries. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But that was before. See? We're </span>
  <em>
    <span>still</span>
  </em>
  <span> assuming he's the same," Jeno stresses. "But he's changed, Renjun. What if he hates us now?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time, the words come to him easily. "I think he hates us. Just a little." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeno flinches at the blunt words, but Renjun isn't done. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Anyone would, after being forced into such a shitty position. But... the fact that he still continued doing all that, without complaining, I think the love he has overpowered the hate," he says, flicking at Jeno's face with a small smile. "And now, we just need to return all that love." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeno returns the smile, but Renjun can sense he isn't done. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Come on," he urges gently, like one would to a child. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Will he be okay? He just got back from an injury, and... and I think there's things he was hiding from us about his hiatus, and..." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Calm down, Jeno," Renjun interrupts, taking Jeno's larger hands into his own. "I'm worried too, okay? We can talk about it later... I — I really can't stomach those thoughts right now," he sniffs, the tears returning. This time, Jeno reaches up to wipe them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Let's go to the kids," Jeno says gently, and Renjun has to laugh at the back-and-forth comforting they have going on right now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Together, they head back into the living room, where Jisung rests against Chenle's shoulder with red-rimmed eyes. Renjun wastes no time kneeling in front of the boy and entangling their hands, rubbing his thumb over Jisung's wrist in an effort to calm him down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He'll be alright," he says, despite his own fears that it would turn out to be untrue. He must be strong for their young ones. Mark isn't present right now. It's up to him and Jeno to calm everyone down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is it my fault?" Jisung asks, choking on his own voice as a sob breaks through. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Renjun feels his heart shatter, and he's quick to reject the idea. "Of course not. This has been a long time coming. If not today, it would've happened tomorrow. Please don't blame yourselves."</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blame me</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thinks, but he doesn't say. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Now, I think Jeno has something to tell you." He pats Jisung on the back as he gets up, collapsing next to Chenle on the sofa. Jisung gulps at his words, looking terrified even as he meets Jeno's easy-going smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Go on," Renjun coaxes, and Jisung nods, albeit hesitant, before getting up and following Jeno into the kitchen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They'll be fine, Renjun thinks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns to Chenle, who regards him with a pensive gaze. It's a foreign look on his normally jolly face, and it only serves as a reminder of the weight of the situation they're in. Renjun </span>
  <em>
    <span>still</span>
  </em>
  <span> hasn't comprehended how bad this truly is. It's as if his brain is refusing to process that Jaemin could very well go on another break, immediately after the last one, except this time, instead of fond memories of them, all he'll have are fragmented scars. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We really fucked up, didn't we?" Chenle remarks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Renjun has no choice but to agree.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ahhhh I'm not sure how long this series will last, but perhaps this is a mid-point? </p><p>Please do leave comments and kudos if you can! I would really appreciate it!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Apologies for the wait! Please enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It takes three days for Jaemin to come home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Three days wrecked by guilt, anxiety, eating nothing but unhealthy takeout and spending time contemplating the past month. The truth is glaring; they weren't doing their part of being Jaemin's friends, being his support. But it's still confusing to Renjun, how Jaemin had spiralled so quickly, so dangerously, how he had remained silent through it all. He reasons that there's no way they could've talked it out if Jaemin himself never complained, but at the same time he accepts that he was far too neglectful of the signs he saw, that all this could've been avoided if he had sat Jaemin down and just </span>
  <em>
    <span>talked. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It's a confusing position to be in. Ultimately, he decides that playing the blame game does no good here, and vows to fix things once Jaemin gets back. </span>
</p><p><span>Him and Jeno talk a lot. They had initially thought that Jaemin's insistence on cooking stemmed from the fact that he enjoyed it, not because he felt he was </span><em><span>obligated to.</span></em> <span>They talk with their manager, who agrees to hire someone to cook for them. Jeno looks so relieved at the news that Renjun's heart clenches painfully </span></p><p>
  <span>Renjun feels especially bad for Jeno, who looks so tired and so </span>
  <em>
    <span>sad, </span>
  </em>
  <span>who had spent a good part of a year missing his best friend only to lose him once again, this time due to something he could've prevented. He knows no matter how much he reminds Jeno that there's nothing they can do about it at the current moment, Jeno's brain wouldn't let him relax. Not until Jaemin is home, not until Jaemin tells him that it's okay. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He sounded so betrayed," Jeno whispers into the pillow he's hugging. "I could barely recognize him. He… he just looked so thin, and so tired, and it all hit me at that very moment, and when I looked into his eyes all I could see was </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt." </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Renjun doesn't say anything. He lets Jeno hold his hand, ignores the way his chest aches with pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung is another person Renjun has to keep a close eye on. He seems scared, more than anything else. Scared that Jaemin would go into another break, scared that Jaemin would hate him, scared that this would fracture Dream's relationship as a whole. Jisung treasures their bond so much, even a hint of anything that could break it sends him into an endless maze of thinking and over thinking. It's easy to calm him down when they're all present, but with Jaemin missing, nothing could settle him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chenle, for the most part, spends his time occupying Jisung, whether physically or via texts. Mark and Donghyuck are both  aware of what's happening, but unfortunately too occupied with 127's practices to visit, though they ask for updates whenever they can. Donghyuck in particular makes it his personal duty to ensure Jeno and Renjun are doing alright, and Renjun can't help but miss him as much as he misses Jaemin. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We are meant to be seven. Why are we never complete? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It seems all they can do is wait. </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Jaemin returns, all he does is stare at them blankly. All the words Renjun wanted to say dries up in his throat when he realizes how </span>
  <em>
    <span>sick </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jaemin looks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung has no such qualms. He pushes off his chair and flings himself at Jaemin in a frenzy, only halting when his senses hit him at the last minute and he remembers Jaemin's panic attack the first day they had met again. When Jaemin smiles encouragingly, albeit weakly, Jisung closes the remaining distance and presses close against Jaemin's frail body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry," Jisung whispers. "I'm so </span>
  <em>
    <span>sorry." </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeno gets up, dragging Renjun with him. Even he seems uncertain as to what to do, but still manages to offer Jaemin a small smile, saying quietly but earnestly, "We missed you, Jaemin." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin nods. His face is unreadable though not cold. His smile is carefully plastered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm… really tired. I'll go take a nap, okay?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They agree, hesitant but left with no choice. Jaemin disappears into his room, and the gentle shut of the door is like a bang in the resounding silence.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Jaemin stares at his hands. His gaze is unfocused in the darkness of the room. The covers feel suffocating so he throws them off. His clothes feel even more suffocating so he takes those off too. The clock is too loud, he takes that off the wall and takes out the batteries. There's a peek of sunlight through the windows, so he closes the curtains and shuts his eyes.</p><p>
  <span>Deep breaths, until his irritation fades away, until his heart calms down and he doesn't feel the urge to tear into whatever he gets his hands on.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Until he feels nothing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he sleeps. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span> Jaemin spends two days holed up in his room, water bottle clutched in hand and empty plates of food their manager leaves behind for him to forcefully swallow. His brain is static. Jisung and Chenle text him but he can only stare at the notifications until he manages to swipe them away. It's a free week gifted after Jaemin's sudden collapse, but he hasn't done anything even remotely productive. His throat feels eternally clogged. He wonders if all his progress at the gym is gone. Wonders what their trainer would think of him. Guilt eats him up like nothing else, until that too barely registers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One morning, it all hits him at once, like a knife piercing through his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The duties he hasn't done. The fight with Jeno. The pain of realizing how </span>
  <em>
    <span>lonely </span>
  </em>
  <span>he is. Concern at how unconcerned he is when he's wasting away in his bed. Worry about his physical state, his stamina. Guilt that he's somehow undone every single step he had carefully taken during his break to make himself better. Shame, when he thinks of his members, how much he's made them suffer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's being so difficult. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometimes, Jeno knocks on the door and calls for him. And Jaemin yearns desperately to respond, to be held in those warm arms, to feel comforted and loved. But he keeps telling himself that Jeno would just judge him, that he doesn't deserve that amount of care after the shit he's put them through anyways. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's being self-destructive. He knows. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He knows. </span>
  </em>
  <span>But he doesn't know what else to do. He's falling back into the one thing that still feels familiar to him, the one thing that hasn't changed. He's undoing all the progress he's made to recover, not just physically, but mentally. Once again, he's the Jaemin of a year ago, all hope extinguished, all motivation drained from his body, growing emptier and emptier as the hours pass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A feeling of constantly wanting to cry, yet his eyes remain completely dry, and nothing ever comes out. A vacuum in his stomach that just sucks everything in. He's not sad. But he isn't happy either. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's so frustrated, he wants to cry, but he </span>
  <em>
    <span>can't. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>On the third day, the lack of coffee hits him in what's one of the worst migraines he's ever experienced. Pressure behind his eye threatens to crack open his skull, and nausea overpowers everything until he's left emptying the contents of his stomach once more. He manages to gulp down a mouthful of water before exhaustion takes over, and he falls asleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he wakes up, he's craving instant ramen. He thinks about getting up. Walking to the kitchen. Finding a ramen packet. Boiling water. Waiting. And then finally eating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's so much, yet he wants it </span>
  <em>
    <span>so bad, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and before he knows it, his phone is pressed against his ear. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Hello?" </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jeno's voice sounds, croaky and raspy. He must've been asleep; it is late into the night after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Can you…" Jaemin gulps, "can you make me some ramen?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A pause, where Jaemin considers throwing the phone. Then, soft as snow, gentle as a loving breeze, so familiar it makes warmth bloom in his static chest, "of course, Nana." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeno doesn't take much time. When he knocks on the door, it takes Jaemin a moment to summon the effort to go open it. He's so spent even by that action that he grabs the bowl, drops to the floor, and begins eating then and there. It's soggy and salty, just the way he likes it, and it makes him unreasonably emotional when he realizes that maybe whatever that is happening between him and Jeno isn't irreparable after all. Jeno still remembers how he likes his ramen, after all this time, such a minute, insignificant detail. Jaemin has changed, his preferences have changed, but maybe… maybe Jeno can learn all that again. Maybe they can fit together again, as they've always been, destiny's two idols, his other half. </span>
</p><p><span>He hasn't allowed himself to feel in what feels like forever that when Jeno sits down next to him, and cards a hesitant hand through his hair, he </span><em><span>breaks.</span></em> <span>It's so ugly, so repulsive, the way he sobs and sobs into his ramen, the way the soup drips down his chin and soaks his clothes, the way his greasy, sweaty hair plasters against his forehead. </span></p><p>
  <span>He's so overwhelmed, neither with positive nor negative emotions, just pure </span>
  <em>
    <span>feeling</span>
  </em>
  <span> that refuse to comprehend in his brain. He cries and cries and cries, thinking about the showers he hasn't taken, the plates he hasn't cleaned up, the conversations he hasn't had. And Jeno, his sweet, beloved Jeno holds him through it all, pressing Jaemin's disgusting body to his chest, enveloping him in arms that shield him from everything that isn't his love. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And when Jaemin exhausts himself, Jeno wipes his face carefully with a wet towel. He picks out soft, comfy, oversized clothes for Jaemin and gently encourages him to take a shower and brush his teeth. When Jaemin emerges from the bathroom, feeling embarrassed beyond words yet strangely light and hopeful, Jeno has moved the plates and cutlery to the kitchen and replaced the covers on his bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Have you taken your medications?" Jeno asks. Jaemin shakes his head. He does have alarms for them, but he swipes them away the moment they ring and forgets about it right after. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeno doesn't seem judgemental, rather, he only offers Jaemin a water bottle and patiently waits for him to swallow the pills. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is your… is your back alright?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin nods. It's fine, as long as he doesn't over-exert it. And he's basically been doing nothing the past few days so it's only a bit stiff, but otherwise pain free. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Have you done your stretches?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, he hasn't. He doesn't want to. When Jeno opens his mouth to suggest it, Jaemin shakes his head frantically. "Not today, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please," </span>
  </em>
  <span>He begs, feeling awfully child-like because there's no reason </span>
  <em>
    <span>not to. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>But he feels… tired. And overwhelmed. He's just finished crying, all he wants to do is sleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wants to start crying all over again when Jeno doesn't push it, moving to sit on Jaemin's bed without bringing it up again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Come on, Jaem," he calls out, patting the bed, and Jaemin gratefully slides into the space besides him, snuggling into the warmth, mind fuzzy and clouded from the first thing he's felt beyond </span>
  <em>
    <span>tired. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>There's so much left unspoken. So much Jaemin has to apologize for, so much Jeno has to apologize for. There's secrets he hasn't told, there's truths he has yet to unravel. There's dance practices, singing lessons, dental appointments and endless schedules for him to attend. Washing his face feels like a monumental task. How is he supposed to do all of that? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeno's hold on him tightens. Belatedly, Jaemin registers the wetness on his neck where Jeno's face is tucked into. Jeno is crying. Jeno doesn't cry, unless he's extremely frustrated. <em>Jaemin</em> made him frustrated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He opens his mouth, his voice wavering. "I'm so, so, </span>
  <em>
    <span>so sorry,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Jeno."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeno shifts a little, until he looks up at Jaemin with wet eyes. "I'm sorry too. But… we can talk about that later right?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin nods, and Jeno smiles at him, gentle and kind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And when he's finally drifting, thoughts fading away and grip slackening, he hears Jeno's quiet voice whisper in his ears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I love you."</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Its not a love confession at the end, if you're wondering 😅 we aren't going in that direction here.</p><p>Going to explore kind of a risky but personal subject with Renjun in this fix *-* I hope it goes well</p><p>It's kind of hard to capture the mindset of "overwhelmed" in writing, but I do hope I did it justice. I'm really sorry for the long wait, I'm hoping to be more consistent with this story now.</p><p>Thank you sm for reading! Kudos and comments are much appreciated ❤</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Tw for a mild reference to disordered eating!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Jaemin wakes up when the first rays of golden sunlight hit his face. It's uncomfortably warm underneath the blankets, even more so with Jeno attached to his side, and it only gets worse when he recalls the previous night and feels his face burn in embarrassment. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>How dramatic,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he scoffs. Crying over </span>
  <em>
    <span>ramen, </span>
  </em>
  <span>what the fuck was wrong with him? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The shame is more than enough to propel him out of bed, though he takes a moment to stare at Jeno, who looks like an absolute angel while asleep. A wave of fondness overtakes all the negative emotions for a few seconds, before it is immediately replaced by guilt when he remembers the way Jeno had to take care of him. His precious acorn has been so, so patient with him, and Jaemin feels that he hasn’t expressed the extent of his gratitude properly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Outside, he can hear clacking in the kitchens, signalling that the other two are awake as well. He steels himself as he makes up his mind to go meet them. He knows, regardless of the bitter well in his heart that tries to convince him otherwise, that they have missed him, and it’s unfair to ignore them after making them worry so much. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Just a light conversation, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he tries to convince himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a bit surprising to realize that his breakdown last night has made his head much, </span>
  <em>
    <span>much, </span>
  </em>
  <span>more clear today. And perhaps it’s the knowledge that Jeno doesn’t hate him even after being pushed away, combined with the water he drank settling in his body and quelling his dehydration-induced headaches, but going out doesn’t seem like a daunting task anymore. Now that he feels calmer, albeit extremely embarrassed and guilty, he realizes how much he’s missed Jisung and Renjun’s company.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he enters the kitchen, Renjun is prodding at a lump of batter on a frying pan while Jisung stands to side with a fearful expression on his face. It’s an oddly endearing sight, and familiar on top of that. Memories of a year ago, when Renjun, energetic and eager to learn as always, would always make a mess in the kitchen trying to make something new, with Jisung his faithful assistant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can’t help the giggle that he lets out, and he’s pleased to notice that he doesn’t grow self conscious when Jisung and Renjun whirl around to look at him with wide eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jaemin!” Renjun greets, abandoning his project to walk over to him in hurried steps. “How are you feeling? Have you gotten enough rest?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a safe question, doesn’t get on his nerves like their prodding usually does. It doesn’t feel laced with pity or confusion, rather just genuine concern that friends would always show each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine,” Jaemin responds, voice raspy from sleep. Then, knowing that they’ve all noticed, he adds, “Jeno’s still asleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Renjun grins at that, and so does Jisung, and Jaemin feels so incredibly light. He wonders the extent to which they had noticed his spiral, wonders how long they would have left him alone, thinking that he was just taking the rest he claimed to have needed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a question for another day. Here, Jaemin just wants to enjoy time with his friends without reality weighing down. What was wrong with him, what was wrong between them, what he had been feeling, what they had been feeling, it’s all important conversations to have, but it can wait. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, they eat Renjun’s imitation of a pancake, save the burnt one for Jeno, and Jaemin watches happily as Jisung and Renjun banter back and forth. They do try to involve him in the conversation, but when he responds with smiles or nods, they cut back a bit and let him observe silently. Jaemin notices this, and he’s infinitely glad that they aren’t pushing him to talk anymore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, the pounding in his head soon returns, and he’s quick to get up to make himself coffee before the deprivation kicks in and kicks his ass. In his haste, he doesn’t notice Renjun and Jisung’s horrified look, and when he finally turns around to meet them, he realizes that they had been watching every single step of making the horrible instant coffee, including just how much of the coffee grounds he put in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The silence stretches. Jisung is the first one to break it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hyung, that’s… that’s so much! That can’t possibly be healthy for you, right?! Why are you drinking that much?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, the ever-present irritation spikes at that moment, and internally, he sighs. He hates his brain for doing this, making him annoyed at </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jisung, </span>
  </em>
  <span>when the boy is just expressing his rightful concern. But he recognizes the signs his brain is throwing at him, that every word they speak, every sound they make, will start getting on his every nerve, until his brain starts conjuring vile thoughts that physically repulses him and makes him hate himself. What a dramatic reaction for being asked about his coffee. Jaemin wishes he could understand why his brain does this to him without warning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He forces a smile, and he sees the way Renjun’s face drops. They’ve noticed his irritation, fucking hell, Jaemin absolutely despises himself right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wonders what he could possibly say to explain. The reason is easy enough; if he doesn’t drink that much, his body will give him hell for it. But that throws them onto the road of why he started drinking that much in the first place, and he’d rather not go there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Renjun sighs. “He’s been drinking that much for a while, Jisung. He can’t suddenly stop now, or the side effects can hurt him badly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, so they’ve noticed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But Jaemin,” Renjun says, careful as he regards him with a soft gaze, one that makes Jaemin fidget. “Please… please try to lower it? One step at a time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ugly side of his brain doesn’t appreciate Renjun trying to meddle. The rational side tells him he should be touched that Renjun cares, and perhaps he can’t conjure that feeling right now, but he does manage to squash down the irritation and flash a much less forced smile. “I will, okay? I’ll cut down on the cups before I cut down on the concentration."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t tell Renjun just how many cups he drinks in a day. Cutting down one or two will still do no favours for his health.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Renjun however, doesn’t know this, and smiles at him. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It leaves them in an awkward atmosphere, but before he can dwell on it, Jeno walks in, blinking adorably. His hair is a mess atop his head, and he smiles as Renjun walks over to ruffle it aggressively. They exchange a look, and Jaemin </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows </span>
  </em>
  <span>it's about him, so he looks away, only to find Jisung watching him with a frown.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jisung quickly moves to stand next to him, pouting. It's a sign that he's displeased with something. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What side effects?" Jisung asks, wrinkling his nose. Jaemin almost sighs in relief when the expected pang of irritation doesn't hit him. He wishes his thoughts would stop being so volatile and out of his control, but he'll take what he can get. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Just really bad migraines," Jaemin answers, not seeing a point in hiding it from Jisung. Jisung only pouts harder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"They said drinking coffee also has really bad side effects." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's also true. I just have to find a compromise somewhere. I promise I got it under control, okay? Don't worry too much about it," Jaemin says, mouth stretching into a soft smile without him forcing it. Jisung grins back, and Jaemin's heart melts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Of course I'll worry about you, hyung. Everyone else is so useless — so I have to be the one protecting you," Jisung says with a huff, looking at where Renjun and Jeno are engaged in quiet conversation. "Me and Chenle talk about it so much, just how stupid everyone else is." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not the first time Jisung has mentioned it. Jaemin laughs, asking, "Really? How so?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"They just are! I promise I'll look after you, okay? And you can look after me too. I really missed you, hyung, so I can't let you go away again," Jisung declares earnestly, and Jaemin can't help but reach over and pinch his cheeks with a grin. A mirror into their old relationship. Perhaps things really were not as broken as he thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Practice would start again soon. Dream members are left without much to do whilst NCT U members rush around trying to perfect their performances. Eventually they'll be thrown headfirst into practices as well, but there is a lull in schedules for now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin worries about his stamina, his physical condition, and his muscle memory, so he excuses himself to go into his room. He pulls out his phone and types in a list of things he should do, feeling his heart drop more and more as it keeps piling up. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Medication, stretches, exercises, practices,</span>
  </em>
  <span> how was he meant to keep track of all of this? He knows, that just because he feels okay </span>
  <em>
    <span>today, </span>
  </em>
  <span>doesn't mean he won't crash again tomorrow. Everything about him is unpredictable now. His mental state is fickle and prone to dry up at any given time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door opens. He looks up, surprised to see their manager walk in. Jaemin has had the room to himself for a while now; he knows the manager probably stays with his girlfriend at nights, and they all keep hush about it the way he keeps hush about their escapades. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Jaemin, you have a therapy session scheduled for today," Manager hyung says, quiet, looking around and making sure no one is there to listen. Jaemin knows that it's not something to be embarrassed about, but the idea of his teammates knowing about his sessions makes him feel nauseous — once again, a feeling he cannot seem to control. He had begged to his unwilling manager to keep his appointments a secret, and thanked the heavens that most of the staff have a soft spot for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Jaemin says silent, hyung continues, "You missed last week's one — for obvious reasons. Unfortunately, she could only schedule for today without it clashing with anything upcoming. I'm sorry for springing this on you without warning." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin nods. He doesn't want to go outside, but he knows it's necessary. Perhaps he can finally work through what he's been feeling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He spends the rest of the time laying on his bed, unable to do anything now that his brain is fixated on </span>
  <em>
    <span>therapy at 12PM. </span>
  </em>
  <span>How stupid, there's still hours left, yet he can't bring himself to do anything else. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, he thinks about the inevitable. When Renjun and Jeno would sit him down to </span>
  <em>
    <span>talk. </span>
  </em>
  <span>What can Jaemin even say? </span>
  <em>
    <span>I'm feeling left out, I feel like I have to earn back your trust, I feel like you all take me for granted sometimes. </span>
  </em>
  <span>There is so much wrong with that; first of all, he doesn't want them to start including him because he asked for it. He wants it to happen naturally, as selfish as it sounds. And he knows that there's nothing to take for granted, not when </span>
  <em>
    <span> Jaemin </span>
  </em>
  <span>should be the one grateful as they accepted him back into the group in the first place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hates it. He hates himself for losing himself the day he came back. If he had just stayed normal, kept up his mask, acted like the old Jaemin, everything would be fine. He wouldn't have set off the first domino that lead him here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pancake he ate sits heavy in his stomach. He isn't used to food anymore — </span>
  <em>
    <span>god, </span>
  </em>
  <span>that's another issue he has to deal with. It certainly was not intentional at first, but he would be lying if he said skipping meals didn't give him satisfaction. </span>
  <em>
    <span>If you can't impress them with your skills, impress them with your looks. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It goes against everything his trainers have told him. He needs a strong core, a strong back, to support his spine. All the muscle he has worked hard to build will wither away the longer he neglects his body. But </span>
  <em>
    <span>still.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The feeling of being overwhelmed creeps up, and it's so beyond his control that all he can do is sigh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's strange, now that he thinks about it, having a day where he isn't cooking anything or cleaning anything up. No one has mentioned it yet; rather, they had seen that Jaemin wasn't making breakfast and did it on their own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They really did make him do all that because they thought he liked it. He almost scoffs, but it feels hypocritical to laugh at their lack of communication when he hasn't been particularly exemplary as well. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he can dwell on it for any longer, the door creaks open, and Jeno pokes his head in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey," he greets softly, walking over and taking a seat next to Jaemin. The mattress bounces a little under the weight, and Jaemin waits for it to settle before responding with a quiet greeting of his own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I want to talk to you," Jeno says, looking at Jaemin. Jaemin suppresses a sigh, but nothing gets past Jeno as usual, and he turns to face Jaemin fully with a serious look on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Jaemin, the last thing I want to do is push you beyond what you're comfortable with. I've always been attuned to your needs and your limits, but obviously things have changed, and I need to relearn all of it," Jeno says, staring down at his hands. "I… You're still my best friend, Jaemin, and I will always love you the most, so it doesn't matter to me if you're a little different now, okay? And I was stupid to keep assuming things about you — </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh, he'll still be loud, he wants to do the chores, he doesn't want to cook for Jisung." </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin stays silent, so Jeno continues, though the steadiness in his voice is slowly fading, replaced with shaky words he's clearly barely holding together. "We never got to talk properly, after that day in the kitchen, and the days that followed were the worst days of my </span>
  <em>
    <span>life. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I thought you being injured was the worst it could ever get for me, but you being hurt from something </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>caused…. I can never forgive myself for doing that to you." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's openly crying now, and Jaemin is stunned beyond words. Being mad at Jeno hasn't even crossed his mind. Even during the fight, all he felt was overwhelming hurt rather than anger. There's a part within Jaemin's brain that resents them all, is constantly irritated with their words, and is always, always angry, but that's not </span>
  <em>
    <span>him. Jaemin</span>
  </em>
  <span> doesn't hate his friends. Jaemin loves them so dearly he'd rather tear himself down than ever see them sad. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Jeno," he begins, inching closer and wrapping an arm around his best friend, holding tight when Jeno falls into his chest, limp and weak. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>I've </span>
  </em>
  <span>forgiven you. I was never even mad at you. Things just accumulated, and all this time I've just been expecting you to read my mind. I was the one who stayed quiet about the chores. No one was </span>
  <em>
    <span>forcing </span>
  </em>
  <span>me to do them except for my own brain. And you've all been stupid too, but ultimately, it was all because I pushed you away and you didn't push back hard enough. We're both at fault, aren't we?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeno sniffs, then looks up into Jaemin's own water eyes. "Can we... put this past us? We'll talk about things properly from now on, we'll tell each other what we want and what we don't want." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin nods. He knows it's empty. Jeno knows it's empty. Jaemin will let bygones be bygones of course, but being open and vulnerable is too much for his current state. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeno shakes his head stubbornly. "Well, I don't care if you don't want to talk. I'm your best friend, I can't stand to watch you destroy yourself like this. If… If it means annoying you because I'm pushing too hard, then I'll take it. I'd rather have you dislike me than ever step foot into another hospital." He ends with a huff, and it's so endearing that Jaemin can't help but to smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry for being difficult. I really am trying," Jaemin whispers, stroking Jeno's hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeno tucks his head back into Jaemin's neck. "I know you are. And I love you for it. And I'm trying too, Jaemin, I really am. Maybe I can't read you as well as I used to, and maybe I've misstepped over and over, and I'll keep misstepping, but I'm </span>
  <em>
    <span>trying. </span>
  </em>
  <span>And I need your help to actually succeed, so </span>
  <em>
    <span>please."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaemin can't stand to watch Jeno beg for something Jaemin is being too stubborn to give. So, he settles for honesty that goes against all his wishes, and he tells Jeno, "I've been going to therapy."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeno jerks up in surprise. His eyes are wide, and Jaemin searches them for judgement, but when he finds none, he’s the one slumping into Jeno instead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s been… a few months, I guess,” Jaemin continues, hesitant about how much he should reveal. One look into Jeno’s eyes changes all that. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck it, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thinks. “When I was still in recovery… I guess I hit a point where everything felt hopeless. That is not to say that recovery itself was going badly, I was honestly quite pain free and mobile at that point. But…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He trails off, wondering how on earth he could word this without coming off as desperate. As clingy. As </span>
  <em>
    <span>jealous. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I saw how well you all were doing without me. Harder choreos, harder songs, wins, all that hit me of course… but seeing how… close all of you got, it hurt. I felt like there was no place left for me anymore. And I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>it’s irrational, I really do, but I can’t help what I felt. What I feel now. The only motivation I had to get better was completely drained out of me, and the voice that kept telling me that I wouldn’t be welcomed back only got louder and louder, until it was the only thought I had. So… I gave up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeno’s face is pinched, but his hands have found purchase in Jaemin’s own, calloused and rough yet so gentle and soft. It keeps Jaemin going despite how his voice gets progressively more shaky, and his breath begins to escape him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“ I didn’t want to go through gruelling PT and exercise anymore. I didn’t want to </span>
  <em>
    <span>try </span>
  </em>
  <span>anymore. It had been so long since I had left, I was wondering what I was even fighting for at that point. Not trying eventually evolved into not taking care of myself… and…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is the hard part. The part that could make or break Jaemin’s image in Jeno’s eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could’ve come back, you know? After the first six or so months. But I neglected myself so heavily my condition deteriorated all over again, and I had to start from square one </span>
  <em>
    <span>again, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and - “</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He bursts into tears. He can’t help it. He hates reliving this; the frustration, the self-hatred, the disappointment that all came with being informed that his spine got worse instead of better. It was awful, so fucking awful, that Jaemin’s already feeble mental state had snapped completely. A lifeless husk was what was left, until his mother had decided enough was enough and scheduled him an appointment with a therapist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand if you hate me, Jeno. I would too, if I were you… but Jeno, I couldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>help it.</span>
  </em>
  <span> If I could choose, would I choose to be in that position? None of it was in my control, I swear I tried my best, but I was just so </span>
  <em>
    <span>tired. </span>
  </em>
  <span>And I know no amount of apologies can make it better, but I… I’m so frustrated, nothing that goes on in my head is within my control anymore, absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeno, who had remained silent all this time, stares at Jaemin with so much compassion that sobs break free once more. He’s immediately wrapped up in a warm embrace, and when Jeno speaks, it’s with an infinite amount of patience and care. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And yet you’re still here. You managed to get better, against all those odds, and you managed to come back. And I know how awful coming back has been for you, but it doesn’t have to be that way anymore, Jaemin. You don’t have to hurt anymore, okay? We’ll take it one step at a time, one day after the other. You’re so, </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>much stronger than you think. So please, I’m asking - no, I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>begging - </span>
  </em>
  <span>let me help you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And what can Jaemin do, except agree?</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Im genuinely so sorry for the wait. I did not realize it had been over a month since the last update. I think a big part of it is that this was initially meant to be a vent fic; but things have changed so much over the past year and I'm honestly in such a better place now that this fic is mostly written as a recollection rather than something relevant to the present. That is not to say it is any less important to me, however it does take longer to properly structure it. </p><p>I don't think Jeno and Jaemin talked about everything they needed to talk about. But I also do think in a situation where emotions run high, there are somethings you will just forget to mention. </p><p>Please do leave comments and kudos if you would like, I would appreciate it very very much :)</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This isn't going to be very well structured I think... It's sort of like a vent fic? Idk.. But don't worry it will have a happy ending. But the journey there... Yikes.</p><p>Please leave kudos or comments if you wish! And interact w me in the links below Ill really appreciate it!! </p><p> </p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>